


Reparation

by Slothquisitor



Series: Reparation [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Assault, Blood, F/M, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, Mutual Pining, Original Character Death(s), Post Trespasser, Slow Burn, Suicide, Support, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:45:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 44
Words: 158,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5552873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slothquisitor/pseuds/Slothquisitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Inquisition is disbanded, Cullen Rutherford seeks a new life with his family in South Reach, alone. He works to open up a Templar Shelter in order to help Templars overcome lyrium addiction with the help of a healer Mara Lavellan. Cullen and Mara don’t see eye to eye on everything, but when an old danger appears they have to work together to keep Thedas safe, all while trying to keep the clinic running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been nearly a full year since she’d walked out of his life, but the first thing he did every morning was reach over to where she would have laid, to grasp at nothing. He could almost feel the weight of her on the bed, imagined that the bedding was still warm from where she had been. Yet it had been too long to lie to himself and pretend she was still there. 

Cullen opened his eyes to the unfamiliar room around him, it was simple. A bed, a dresser, a small table were all that resided in the room to keep him company. The simplicity felt like home in a way nothing had in a long time. The green quilt he lay under was tied the same way he remembered his mother teaching his siblings when they were younger. A small window stood opposite of the bed and the light streamed cheerily in, illuminating the walls. There had been no nightmares last night, a fact for which he was grateful. He wasn’t sure he wanted to explain those to Mia just yet, how he often awoke screaming, and covered in sweat with the horrors of Kinloch playing over again in his head. But she would know the whole of the truth soon enough, they wouldn't stay away forever. 

He’d come to South Reach with more of a purpose than just being with his family. Leliana, Divine Victoria now, had granted him some land and an abandoned estate on the edge of town for him to open up a shelter for Templars. It’d been an idea that he’d had for a while, once he started planning a life beyond the Inquisition. Only in his plans he didn’t arrive in South Reach alone. 

The exalted council had happened just a few weeks prior. Lorraine Trevelyan had disbanded the Inquisition, and Skyhold was emptying. Everyone was going their separate ways and that meant he needed to leave too. Mia had been hounding him to visit his siblings in South Reach, and it felt as good as a place to start over as any.

Saying goodbye to Lorraine was difficult, and he had put it off till the last moment in some effort to avoid the inevitable. They'd formed a tentative friendship in the months after their breakup, moving towards healing, but Cullen mourned the future with her that would never be. She’d moved on, and though she tried to keep things quiet out of consideration for him, he’d known. When she announced her engagement he wasn’t surprised. When he left they hadn’t talked about it. It was no longer any of his business. 

She hugged him before he left. The faint scent of lilac encircling his senses even once she had left his arms. It had been so easy to pretend she’d belonged there, pressed against him. But then she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, a grim reminder of the way things truly were.

As soon as he was out of sight of Skyhold he rode his horse as hard as he could. Leaving her, that life, everything behind. The future by the lake, the sound of small feet running, that was not his future. Not with her. It was time to move on, leaving Skyhold was the first step. 

Cullen had spoken with Cassandra before they left Hilamshiral. He’d had an idea, something that might be worthwhile. He still wanted to help people, and perhaps he could help Templars quit lyrium. He’d done it, after all. Cassandra’s eyes had lit up when he told her of his idea, and in her excitement she all but dragged him to Leliana so he could share it with her as well. Between the Chantry and the remaining resources of the Inquisition, he had what he needed to get started and a promise from Cassandra to visit when it was up and running. 

So he rode on, to the uncertain future. 

And now he was here, lying in a small bedroom of his sister’s house. Seeing his siblings for the first time in years had been a bittersweet experience. It was so good to see them, but the passage of time was evident, and he mourned it. He’d missed everything. 

Mia was married, with two children, Branson had a son and Rosalie was all grown up. He reeled from emotions he couldn’t quite put into words. He'd expected there to be awkwardness, time changes people after all. They were strangers to him and he had expected to feel like an outsider among them. Instead, they welcomed him with open arms. While Cullen had all but ignored his siblings existence for years, they had not forgotten him and the guilt of that slowly gnawed at him all evening. His niece and nephews had taken to him immediately, Branson had handed Henry to him and he'd looked at the happy chattering four year old as if it had three heads. He knew how to hold a sword and run an army, nothing about how to interact with children. But it hadn't seemed to matter as he chased and played with the kids after dinner. To be surrounded by this much love and support after everything, he didn’t feel worthy of any of it. 

“Good morning,” Mia greeted him from the kitchen as he slowly staggered out of the room into the bright kitchen. The room radiated warmth from the fire glowing in the corner and there was the sound of a morning in progress. Pans and herbs hung from the ceiling while the smell of sizzling bacon wafted towards him.

“Morning,” he responded. As she moved about the kitchen, Cullen was struck by just how much she reminded him of his mother. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in the same fashion as his mother had worn hers. She swatted Matthew’s hand away from the pan of bacon as she loaded a plate with it. He looked offended for a moment, but pressed a quick kiss to her temple and stole a piece anyways. 

“Would you like some breakfast?”

He joined his niece and nephew at the table, “Yes, thank you.”

“Uncle Cullen!” Liam said excitedly, “Look what I made!” He handed him a drawing of two somewhat smudged figures holding swords, one was unmistakably him, and the other Liam. 

“We’re going to be knights and fight all the bad guys,” Liam told him with a large smile, his eyes looking at Cullen as if he'd just handed him a masterpiece.

Clara at ten was just four years older, but held the older sibling title tightly, and rolled her eyes, “You’re not old enough to be a knight.”

Liam stuck his tongue out at his sister, while Mia appeared, a stern look on her face as she glanced between her children as if she could smell the beginnings of a row, “Are you finished with breakfast you two? You’ve got chores to do. Go.” 

She handed Cullen a plate of food with a shake of her head. But Cullen looked to Liam holding the picture in his hands, “Perhaps tonight I'll teach you some sword fighting?” Liam's entire face lit up as he nodded and followed his sister outside.

“Sorry about that, they fight constantly,” Mia apologized. 

“I seem to remember a few other siblings who did the same,” Cullen replied with a smile. 

Mia laughed, “That’s true. What’s on the agenda for you today?”

Cullen paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, “I need to track down a healer. Leliana gave me a name of a woman here and then I’ll need to inspect the property, see how much work it will take. Cassandra has a group of Templars that is due to arrive in a few days if we can be ready.”

Mia nodded, “Rosie, Branson and I are just awaiting your instructions.”

“Thank you, Mia. For everything,” Cullen said quietly. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a quick squeeze in reply. 

After helping Mia clean up, he ventured into town. He was still wearing his armor, not having brought much with him from Skyhold. The choice garnered him not a few strange looks and curious murmurs. With the Inquisition he didn't have much use for anything but armor, and everything else he did have reminded him of her. He had decided to just buy new things when he arrived in South Reach, he supposed he’d have to do that today too. 

He paused in front of a small building, what had become the makeshift hospital. The two-story building looked like a patchwork of many buildings that had been added onto and hastily repaired. The building had clearly been some sort of merchant’s shop in a past life, but now the front doors stood wide open as the sign above the doors swung loudly in the warm breeze. He continued inside, Leliana had given him the name of a famed healer in the area that had worked for the Inquisition, he hoped she’d be willing to help him. 

The first room he entered was small, partitions had been set up to divide those entering from the patients. A man in an apothecary robe hummed quietly to himself as he organized the potions and herbs on the wall.

“Excuse me?” Cullen said.

The man turned and smiled warmly as he moved towards the counter in front of him, “How may I help you?”

Cullen shuffled his feet against the uneven floorboards, “I'm looking for a healer named Mara Lavellan.” 

The apothecary nodded and he pointed towards the back of the building, “She's assisting some poor sod who came in with a sword wound. You can go back if you're not too squeamish.”

“Thank you,” he lowered his head and walked deeper into the hospital.

The next room he entered was a maze of beds with a few patients, the smell of sick and blood accosted his senses immediately. His stomach clenched uncomfortably as he worked his way through the room to where a woman stood over a bed with a chantry sister holding a handful of poultice and herbs beside her.

They were near a window, but still a lantern burned on the table near the patient. He’d expected her to be a mage. He hadn’t expected her to be an elf. As the apothecary had said, she was elbows deep in healing a man who had an impressive gouge in his side. Definitely a sword wound, Cullen had seen enough of those to last a lifetime.

He could feel the magic pull in around her as she directed it to heal the man’s torn skin. Her loose fitting tunic had the sleeves rolled up past the elbows, revealing twisting intricate tattoos of deep blue amongst the stain of the man’s blood. Her emerald eyes, concentrated only on the task at hand, and her blond hair fell softly just below her shoulders. A faint blue glow emerged from her fingertips as she worked, coaxing layers of skin and muscle back together. There was something bird-like in the angles of her arms as she worked, almost too sharp, as if her limbs hadn't been made for healing but for flying. 

“The poultice?” she asked quietly, her voice was soft, smooth and soothing. The voice of a healer. She gently applied the poultice and then bandaged the man.

“Let me know when he wakes, please Sister Marie?” 

“Of course,” the sister said in thick Orlesian accent. 

Only once she was completely satisfied with her work did she notice his presence, “Hello, can I help you?” 

“Are you Mara Lavellan?” he asked. 

“That depends on who’s asking,” she responded as she eyed his armor with a look of distrust. 

“I’m Cullen Rutherford…” what exactly was his title now? He wasn’t sure. “Former Commander of the Inquisition.”

Her eyes flashed with recognition, “And what exactly do I owe this visit to?” She began gracefully gliding towards him, turning to his left and bidding him to follow with the motion of her head. He followed her into a small dark room, lit only by one lantern in the corner, bandages and potions stood in disarray on crates among hanging herbs and a wash basin. 

“What happened to him?” Cullen asked, not quite ready to admit why he was there. 

“The man I healed? He won't say, his friend that brought him in wouldn't either and then disappeared claiming blood made him sick,” Mara’s mouth was a thin line, brow furrowed.

“Odd,” he responded. She began cleaning her hands off in the wash basin.

She nodded in agreement, “Indeed, I think I ought to report it to the Guard.” She was referring to the small South Reach Guard that had been created during the Inquisition to help protect the city from rogue bandits and Red Templars. 

Her now clean arms crossed in front of her, “You want to tell me why you're really here?”

“I’m opening a shelter for Templars, to help them go off lyrium,” Cullen admitted quietly. It sounded ridiculous didn’t it? 

“Lyrium addiction,” she frowned, “I wasn’t aware that was something one could overcome.”

Cullen shrugged, “I did. And I’d like to help others do the same.”

Her eyes travelled over him and she seemed impressed with his admission, “Well then you’re probably the right person to open one. So exactly why are you talking to me?”

“I need a few healers on hand, to help. The withdrawal symptoms can be very painful and there can be complications. The Divine directed me to you.”

A look of confusion passed over her face as she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “The Divine sent you?”

Cullen nodded, “She said you were well known for your healing abilities here in South Reach.”

Mara laughed. It was a beautiful sound, lighting up her eyes, “Well, that’s interesting. I’m usually better known for my other qualities, not healing.” Cullen decided to let the comment go, he could find out what she meant some other time, right now he needed her to agree to work with him.

“I just saw you work,” Cullen continued, “I could use someone like you. The pay would be good, we have a sizeable endowment from the Inquisition.”

Mara studied him as she considered his offer. She looked conflicted, but confidently offered him her hand, “I’m in.” 

He shook it. Her fingers were thin and he could feel the chill in them through his gloves, but she felt strong. She was a solid foot shorter than him, but she moved with an almost unearthly grace. 

“Shall I walk you out?” she turned to him with a tentative smile. 

“Sure. Can you meet me tomorrow morning at the old Bryland estate? We’ll need to discuss the things we need to acquire for you. The sooner we can get up and running, the better.”

Mara nodded, blonde tresses catching the sunlight as they walked outside, “Sure. Do you have all of the other positions filled?”

“Not yet. We’re going to start very small, my sisters and brother will assist us, especially with this first group. I’m afraid it will be quite a lot of experimentation.”

“I’ll admit I know very little about lyrium withdrawal. We’ll need to discuss your experience so that I have an idea of what to expect.”

“Of course.” He agreed automatically. He had never talked about the full withdrawal experience with anyone not even….he tried to skip over her name in his head. He didn’t want to admit it, but he still thought of her often. It was easier now, the distance dulled the pain he was convinced was gone. But when she had announced her engagement the pain had resurfaced, there was something so final about it. He reminded himself that time would help. He blinked the thoughts away. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mara raised a hand in benediction and disappeared back inside the hospital. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: withdrawal discussion.

The old estate loomed in the distance. She’d seen it many times before, had even asked about it. She’d been curious. Growing up Dalish you didn’t have many chances to see huge shem houses. But in her time in the Inquisition, she’d seen plenty of shem structures. The front yard was overrun, nature reclaiming the land for its own. Many weeds skimmed her knees as they fluttered in the breeze. The house looked tired, worn down. Standing for too long with too little upkeep. The wood was faded, grayed by time and weather and a few of the windows were cracked in their panes. It may have been grand once, but it had lost much of its original luster. 

 

Despite everything, the house still stood, like some grizzled warrior. Mara thought it a fitting. This house that had survived so much: a blight, a war, rebuilding. Much like the men and women who would eventually come here. It was going to be a place of rebuilding for them too. She looked up at the building in front of her, with some work it would do.

 

Mara kept wondering if this was actually a good idea. A stranger had offered her a job and she’d taken it and then agreed to meet him at some abandoned house. At least he was a shem she’d  _ heard _ of, even seen from a distance. The rumors didn’t do him justice. No wonder there had been rampant rumors about the Commander of the Inquisition, the man was attractive. 

 

This was a chance, if not a slightly terrifying one, but she wasn’t going to let being a little scared turn her away from this path. This was what she needed. Healing people coming into the hospital and helping the South Reach Guard on patrols was all fine and good, but this was a true purpose. 

Healing had always come more naturally to her than anything else. Healing hands Keeper Deshanna had said. Sometimes touch was just as powerful as any magic. She took a deep breath and walked through the slumped iron gates.

“Hello?” Mara called as she entered the open door, with each movement the floorboards beneath her groaned in protestation. 

 

“Mara?” she heard a voice call, “I’m in the back room.”

 

She followed what was once surely a grand hallway. There were several rooms that could have been the back room. The one she looked in first was empty, a few broken pieces of furniture were all that she found. The next room she glanced in was a success, “Oh, there you are.”

 

“Well, what do you think?” Cullen gestured around him. The room was long and wide, a vaulted ceiling above them. He stood behind a table, one leg propped up with a piece of spare wood. He was dressed differently today, no more armor. A leather jacket had replaced the red cloak he’d had on with a white tunic beneath and leather breeches, but his sword still sat on his hip.  _ Old habits die hard, _ Mara thought, but she couldn’t help but appreciate the view. 

 

Mara looked around her, “It looks like it hasn’t been touched in years.”

 

He chuckled, “I’m afraid you’re right. I opened the windows to help with the musty smell.” His hand came up to the back of his neck as he looked at his feet. 

 

“I think it has a lot of potential,” Mara prompted. 

 

“I think so too. Would you like the grand tour?” he said with a crooked smile.

 

“Of course,” she said as she followed him through the house. The enthusiasm Cullen had as he led her through the rooms was contagious. The building was nothing but a rundown noble’s home, but he could see the potential in every dust filled and cobwebbed corner. Where she saw broken furniture and dirty walls, he saw a sanctuary for those who needed healing. As they moved through the house it creaked and cracked with every step. It was certainly going to take a lot of work to get it back in order. 

 

They concluded the tour in the back courtyard. The green hills stretched beyond as the sun moved higher in the sky. Trees lined the horizon and a slight breeze blew through the courtyard. She could see the why they’d built the house here originally, the view was lovely. The courtyard (if it could be called that) was really just a few steps and some extremely neglected plant beds. They probably once held roses and other flowers, but they were long gone now. The time and neglect having reclaimed them for the wild land. A stable stood off to the right, part of the roof looking caved in. But Mara looked back to the plant beds with anticipation. 

 

“I think I could make this an herb garden.” 

 

Cullen turned to her, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. She hadn’t spoken for much of the tour. “You’re still interested in the job?”

 

“I did say I was in,” Mara said, she realized her silence had been confused for reluctance. It wasn’t the case at all. She’d just been trying to avoid the conversation they really needed to have, about his experience with withdrawal. She had seen the hesitancy in his eyes the day before at the hospital. How do you begin a conversation like that? You can’t just jump into it by saying so...tell me about your lyrium addiction. She wondered what might be a better way to begin.

He looked to the bed, “An herb garden? That would be really nice. I thought perhaps we could set up a training area over there.” He pointed near the stables. 

 

“Training?” Mara asked. 

 

Cullen nodded, “Most of these men know nothing beyond the life of the Templar. Something familiar as training exercises might help them adjust. At least, when the withdrawal is bad it’s nice to hit something.”

 

“Sounds about as good as a remedy as any,” she chuckled. 

 

Cullen shrugged, “It may not work for everyone, but it works for me.” 

 

Mara nodded, this was as good an opening as was likely to get, “There’s no precedent for this that I can find. I poured over the books the hospital has, looking for anything I could on lyrium addiction. There was nothing, and when I asked the apothecary about it, all he could tell me was that it he’d heard Templars died without it.”

 

Cullen swallowed hard, “If I can do it, others can.”

 

She searched his face, he believed it, she could see that. It gave her hope, but there was so much they didn’t know about this. She backed away from the topic for a moment. 

 

“How did you become a Templar?” she asked. 

 

“I grew up as a boy watching the Templars in my town. I wanted to be just like them. I must have shown some promise because they offered to train me when I was thirteen.”

 

“Thirteen? That’s so young.”

 

“I wasn’t the youngest to train. Some children are promised to the order at infancy. We sort of looked out for one another.”

 

“And the lyrium?” It had to come back to that. Even he had to know that. He looked unsure, as if he was wishing for something that wasn’t there anymore. 

 

“Comes much later, there’s a vigil first. You’re meant to be at peace during that time, but your life is about to change. When it’s over, you give yourself to a life of service. That’s when you’re given a philter - your first draught of lyrium - and it’s power. The Chantry leash. It’s highly addictive, but well controlled by the Chantry. In Kirkwall Knight-Commander Meredith would often deny Templars their lyrium ration as punishment.” The way he spoke of it, she could tell he still respected the order, but there was a note of contempt in his voice as well. 

 

“Did you know about the side effects before they join the Order?” Mara asked. 

 

Cullen shook his head as he walked back into the house, she padded quietly behind, “It’s a well-kept secret. Lyrium grants Templars their abilities; even if I knew the cost I likely would have done it anyway.”

 

She studied him, the pain on his face evident. If she was going to do this, she had to know, “So 

what made you stop taking it?”

 

His amber eyes met hers, “When I joined the Inquisition I vowed to leave that life behind.”

 

“Just like that?” Mara kept her gaze locked on his. He looked away first.

 

“No, not just like that.”

 

She took a deep breath, she hadn’t known this man for more than a day and she was asking him to share his deepest and darkest times with her, she knew that, “Cullen, I need you to tell me everything.”

 

He walked away from her and pulled up two dusty wooden chairs, he sat down and avoided her gaze. His voice was even, as if he’d thought about what to say. “The symptoms began about twenty-four hours after I stopped taking it. I was sick, I couldn’t keep food down. I would get cold and then hot, I was so weak and my head felt like it was being physically ripped apart. I thought I was dying. After about four days I began to feel better. I was able to eat, to function. But all of the symptoms return every now and again. I have more good days than bad days now.” 

 

“You did this all on your own?”

 

“Yes. It was difficult. If just one other person had been there….” he trailed off. 

 

“Are there any other symptoms that I should be aware of?”

 

“You’re aware that lyrium causes memory loss?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It does that, but I’ve also had it affect my mental state, sometimes when the withdrawal is especially bad I forget where I am. Who I am. Perhaps my case is different, because of my experiences.”

 

“Because of Kirkwall?”

 

He paused, as if he was fighting himself and whether to answer that question. He finally breathed 

out the words, “And Kinloch.”

 

“You were at Kinloch?”

 

Cullen only nodded. 

 

“I’ve heard about Kinloch….” Mara trailed off. The circle fell. She hadn’t been but fifteen when it happened. She remembered her Keeper receiving the news. Telling her of the atrocities that had occurred, trying to steer her away from her curiosity about shems. Showing her the horrors they allowed to happen. Keeper Deshanna wanted her to be careful around shems, but Templars especially. The warning hadn’t been necessary in the end. 

 

“I have nightmares. I always have, but without lyrium they’re worse. I don’t know if it will be the same for others, but it’s that way for me,” he said quietly. 

 

“The first bit, the symptoms are the worst? Nausea, head pain, and general weakness?” Mara prompted as gently as possible.

 

Cullen stared at her for a minute, “Yes.”

 

“Did you use any potions, or other remedies to alleviate the symptoms?”

 

Cullen shook his head. 

 

“You’re a surprising person Cullen Rutherford,” Mara leaned back into her chair, studying the image of the man in front of her, that was slowly filling out. “You have a tremendous amount of self-discipline to be able to have done that.”

 

His amber eyes met hers. The color of warm honey, they shined in the light streaming through the windows. His jaw was clenched before he spoke, “Thank you.”

She nodded and looked down to her hands. Unsure if he found her bluntness offensive. The silence dragged on a moment longer before Cullen cleared his throat, “What equipment will you need?”

 

Mara looked around, thankful to be moving onto business, “This room is large, perhaps this could be the main treatment room? With beds? When the symptoms are the worst we can have them in the same room to make treatment easier, and then we can transition them to shared or private rooms?”

 

Cullen seemed relieved as well to talk about the practical measures that should be taken. And so they got to work. 

 

Mara wasn’t sure how long they’d been working when a voice echoed through the house. “Cullen?” 

 

Mara glanced to Cullen, looking to see if he had been expecting someone. He looked confused for a moment. “In the back room.”

 

_ Great instructions,  _ she thought. A man entered the room a moment later. He was younger and a good few inches taller than Cullen, but had the same blonde hair. She stood there awkwardly for a moment, waiting for some sort of an introduction. 

 

She glanced between them, “Your brother I presume?” She tried to be helpful. 

 

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. She wondered if it was a nervous habit. 

 

“Um, yes. This is Branson. Branson, Mara,” Cullen gestured between them. 

 

Branson smiled, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady.” She fought a smile. She’d been called a lot of things, but ‘my lady’ hadn’t ever been one of them. She ventured a glance at Cullen who looked slightly perturbed. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she replied. 

 

“Has he kept you working here all day?” 

 

She turned to the window, the sun was low in the sky. They had effectively been working all day. Cullen looked at her sheepishly. 

 

“The time seems to have gotten away from us. My apologies.” 

 

She hadn’t noticed they’d been working that long, but smiled warmly “Don’t worry about it. I think 

I’ll finish up this supply list tonight. Until tomorrow?”

 

Cullen nodded, “Until tomorrow.” She gathered her things and shrugged back into the jacket she’d thrown over the chair. 

  
“It was nice to meet you,” she said as she moved towards the doorway. She offered a quick wave before allowing herself to delve back into her thoughts. There were so many things to do, so many plans to make. Cullen really believed they could do this, and she didn’t want to let him down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're a little ahead of schedule! Hooray! What did you think? I'd love to hear from you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The work on the estate begins. Cullen and Mara don't see eye to eye on everything.

“Fenedis Iasa!” the words startled him as he walked through the gates of the estate, his siblings on his heels. Cullen didn’t know a lot of elven, but he knew that the rather impressive stream of words that followed were expletives. 

“What was that?” Rosalie asked, a concerned look passing over her face and clutching his arm. 

Cullen exchanged a look with Branson, “I have an idea who it is.” Branson laughed. 

He strode briskly into the courtyard where he found Mara toiling in one of the plant beds, holding up a rather thorny weed that was almost as big as she was. She threw it angrily at the large pile behind her. 

“What exactly did that weed do to you?” Cullen announced himself, failing to suppress a grin. 

Mara jumped, face turning pink, “They’re being unusually stubborn.” Her cheeks reddened as her eyes trailed behind him as his siblings entered the courtyard. 

“Mara!” Branson called enthusiastically. 

She seemed to bite down on her embarrassment, “Hello.” She added a small wave. 

Mia cleared her throat quietly behind him, “My sisters Mia and Rosalie.” He gestured to his sisters. 

Mara smiled, wiping her brow leaving a faint line of dirt across it, “It’s nice to meet you.”

He didn’t hear his sister’s replies as he glanced to the one empty flowerbed and the one she was currently working on. “When did you get here? Dawn?”

Mara shrugged, “If we’re going to have a functioning herb garden I need to plant it right away.”

He struggled to contain his awe. He was incredibly lucky to have found someone just as committed to this as he was. She brushed off her hands and walked up the steps, the breeze catching in her hair. 

“What’s the first order of business?” 

Cullen paused a moment, still a little incredulous, but moved on from it quickly. “The main floor should be the first priority. Then the upstairs. Branson, there are a few loose and broken floorboards and steps. Can you fix them?”

“On it,” he smiled and threw a wink at Mara before disappearing into the house. 

Mara chuckled but looked unimpressed. Mia rolled her eyes, “Our brother, the casanova.”

Rosalie laughed, “Pay him no mind Mara, that’s how he is with everyone.”

Culllen ignored their comments, they needed to get to work, “Mia and Rosalie if we can each pick a room and begin cleaning it out that would be good. They’ll all need to be swept and the walls washed down.”

They nodded and smiled, and Rosalie turned before they walked in the house, “See you later Mara.”

She stood in front of him, eyes on the ground, pink coloring returning to her cheeks, “Just how much elven do your siblings know?”

“No idea. But I knew most of the curses,” Cullen smiled. Mara winced, but was smiling as well. 

“Well shit. Now you know,” she said with a crooked smile. 

“That you have a larger vocabulary than most sailors?”   
“You’d be surprised what you pick up working in hospitals,” she shrugged, “What do you need me working on?”

“I’ll let you finish up out here.”

She shook her head, “I came early to get a start on it so that I could help with the rest of the house. This is hardly the most pressing…”

Cullen interrupted, “This is important too. Finish up here, there’s plenty of work inside to go around.”

Mara sighed, “I’ll try not to take too long.”

She began to walk down the steps. “Mara?” he called. 

She turned back to him, the sun illuminating her emerald eyes, she looked at him expectantly, but didn’t say anything. 

“Thank you.” 

She flashed a smile and continued down the steps. 

On the second morning, Cullen led Mara into a room that was an offshoot of the largest room on the main floor, which they’d taken to calling the infirmary. The room was small, with only enough room for a bed and a desk, but it had a window that let enough sunlight pass through to make it look cheery even in its bare state.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Mara glanced at him, she looked confused, “It’s very nice.”

“It’s yours if you want it. You can live here, or you can just use this as a space to escape from work for a while.”

Mara stood fixed on the spot, looking around the room. Cullen continued, “I mean I’ll be living here and I thought it practical that our head healer also be here. But I totally understand if you’d rather...um...not.” He rubbed the back of his neck. This had sounded a lot less like he was asking this woman to move in with him in his head. 

“Quite practical, thank you,” Mara seemed moved by the offer. “I’d like to live here.”

Cullen felt incredibly relieved, “I’m glad.”

Mara’s gaze met his, “Me too.” She looked away, and cleared her throat and began walking out of the room. “I’ve got that supply list, I thought we could look over it together?”

Cullen’s eyes followed her, “Ah yes.” And he joined her in the next room where she walked to a desk against the far wall and handed him a piece of parchment. The infirmary was almost ready, just needing a good sweep before they could place the rest of the furniture. It had been one of the easier rooms to clean out, the upstairs was a different story. Requiring walls to be fixed and doors replaced in addition to cleaning out the years of accumulated dirt and grime. 

“I tried to anticipate all our needs, better to be over prepared than less, I think.”

Cullen nodded and scanned the list, his eyes roaming over the somewhat lopsided script. His eyes paused on one word, and he felt cold dread enter his body. “You’ve got lyrium on here.”

“Yes?” Mara asked. 

Cullen clenched his jaw at her question, but asked, “Why?” It sounded accusing.

“In case we need it.”

“In what circumstance might we require it?” his voice sounded sharper than he intended. 

“What if the lyrium withdrawal is actually killing someone? What if a Templar comes to us, too far gone from lyrium madness for us to do anything beyond making them comfortable? Did you really think that the only Templars that would come here would be just like you?” her words were clipped, impatient. 

He ignored her questions. “We’re not going to have it here.”

“Oh I’m sorry, did you become a healer in the last two days?” Mara feigned surprise.

Cullen growled, “I won’t have it within this building.”

“I don’t think that’s really your call. You hired me to take care of people. Are you also going to ban me from using magic to help them?” 

“Of course, not...but lyrium. You don’t understand Mara. You don’t know.”

“Of course I wouldn’t understand. I’m just some dumb knife-ear with no experience with Templars whatsoever.”

Her words twisted through the air in a note of bitterness. The way she said knife-ear, it was like she had to spit the words out. He shifted his weight, moving away from her. 

“You’re putting words in my mouth. But now that you mention it, because you didn’t grow up in a Circle and you’re not as familiar with Templars. I was one.” He was seething now and her eyes burned with cold fury. He tried to figure out how someone so much smaller than him could feel so imposing, but he stood his ground. 

Mara looked as though she might say something else, but took a deep breath before she replied. “I forgot growing up Dalish means that I’m completely ignorant of the ‘real world’.”

“Maker’s breath,” he ran his hand down his face, “This has nothing to do with you being Dalish. It has to do with us doing the right thing. There should be no lyrium here.” He could feel himself trembling with anger. 

“You’re letting your personal life affect your decision here,” Mara said. She had not raised her voice, but the ferocity was evident. 

How dare she accuse him of letting his ‘personal life’ affect his professional decisions. If there was anything he was good at, it was sacrificing his personal life in the name of professionalism. “I disagree,” Cullen searching for a commanding tone, the one sure to send recruits scurrying. Mara raised an eyebrow, but didn’t budge.

“Of course you do. I won’t work here if you won’t allow me to do my job. It’s not like I plan on dispensing it like elfroot. It will be controlled and only used in the proper circumstances.”

“You shouldn’t dispense it at all! This clinic is to help Templars go off of it, not keep them on it.”

How could she not see this was a terrible idea? The condescension in her voice was grating dangerously against his last threads of patience. 

“And you really believe every Templar is capable of that, that each one will choose to follow your path?”

“It’s the right path.” 

“Perhaps. But maybe they’d rather live their lives comfortably, free of withdrawal symptoms even if it means sacrificing their minds.” Her eyes burned with green fire as they bore into him. 

“No one would make that choice!” he roared. 

Mara stood for a moment, taking in his words before she frowned, “You’d be surprised what some people will choose to forgo pain.” The fire was gone from his eyes, and she looked indescribably sad as she watched him. 

“It doesn’t matter. We’re not having it here. If they want to destroy their lives, they can do it elsewhere.”

“Then you’ll need to find another healer. I’m here to help everyone, not just the people you deem worthy of it. I’ll be in the garden, let me know by the end of the day if you plan on letting me do the job you hired me for or not.” She strode out of the room without another glance at him. 

Cullen ran an angry hand through his hair and suppressed the urge to throw every piece of furniture in the room into the wall. This whole thing was ridiculous. 

He picked up the broom from its place leaning against the wall and resumed sweeping the room. He was holding the broom and dragging it across the floorboards more roughly than was really necessary. Taking satisfaction in the sound of the bristles scraping against the floor. He was completely lost in thought, continuing the argument against lyrium in his head while replaying Mara’s responses, allowing the anger to continue to simmer. 

He didn’t hear Mia’s footsteps until she was right beside him, “I take it you’re done yelling?”

He stopped sweeping and looked at his sister, “I wasn’t yelling.”

“And the fact that I could hear you from upstairs is just due to my impeccable hearing then?” Mia smiled gently. She looked just like his mother in that moment, the same tone as she spoke to him. Admonishing him, without being accusing. 

“She wants to keep lyrium here.”

“She, meaning Mara I presume? Why?” Mia took the broom from his hands, “If you keep using it like that, you’ll owe me a new one.”

“Mara,” the disapproval dripping from his voice, “thinks it may be needed. If some can’t quit, or if it’s too late.”

Mia looked up from the sweeping, watching him as she spoke, “Do you think that could be a possibility?”

Cullen walked away from his sister and began pacing the floor, “I don’t know. I hadn’t really considered some of the scenarios she brought up. If someone comes here and....” He let the words fall away, unable to continue. 

“Because you’ve been focusing on the optimistic scenarios. I think she’s wise to consider the people you can’t save, brother,” Mia said gently. She said it as if he hadn’t thought this whole thing through properly, perhaps on some level he hadn’t wanted to admit that there might be some people they couldn’t save.

“So you’re siding with her?” he spat. 

Mia rolled her eyes, “I’m not siding with anyone. I’m just saying perhaps you need to consider another perspective.”

“She’s wrong,” he said. But he wasn’t sure how much he really believed it.

Mia didn’t say anything and continued to sweep the floor while the floorboards above them creaked and groaned while Branson and Rosalie worked upstairs. 

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to combat the dull ache in the back of his skull before it became a full blown headache, “She threatened to quit.” 

Mia looked impressed, “Well, I guess you’ll have to figure out if you two can work together won’t you?”

The anger simmered just below the surface, but Mia’s words seemed to be eating away at it slowly. He could see Mara working in the garden out the window. 

“Cullen?” Mia got his attention again, “You’ve been working too hard. Go, take a break. Think about this and then deal with it.”

Cullen opened his mouth to refuse, but the look on Mia’s face stopped him cold. “Go,” she pointed out the door, “We’ve got this under control.”

So he walked out the front door, the full intensity of the sun meeting him as he walked into the yard. It was trimmed down now and the now erect iron gates stood open and welcoming. He silently wished he hadn’t left his sword at Mia’s today. He’d argued with himself that he didn’t need it, that it would just get in the way of their work. But now, as he walked along the road he longed for the mental distraction of going through exercises. There would be no such distractions today, the gravel crunched under his boots and he was alone with his thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrangled with this one for a solid week and I'm finally feeling good about it. The events of this chapter and the next were supposed to be just one chapter, but goodness once everything was fleshed out it was just too long! Hopefully the next one will be up by Sunday. Thanks for reading and sticking around here! Let me know what you think?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara and Cullen work to come to a resolution, while the work on the house wraps up.

She wanted to scream in frustration, usually being outside calmed her, but as she thrust an elfroot seedling into the hole she’d just dug, she found she’d grasped it so hard the stem had snapped in half. The heat of her fire burned just beneath her skin, trying to escape. She tried to remember the calming breathing exercises Keeper Deshanna had taught her to control her magic. Even in a Dalish clan losing control of your magic was not something that was looked on kindly. She counted her breaths closed her eyes, leaning back into the sun to focus on the warmth that radiated under red eyelids. 

She could feel a warm breeze twisting through the air around her and tried to focus on the sound of it in the leaves on the trees and not think about the insufferable man that she’d just left in the infirmary. Mara considered herself a rather hard person to get a rise out of, but Cullen had unknowingly pressed every one of her buttons. There was a moment when he had said she didn’t know anything about Templars that she had seriously come close to punching him in the face. 

She opened her eyes and began working again, the breathing had helped. She could no longer feel the fire trying to burst through her skin and consume everything around her, and while the anger remained she could see through it. Cullen’s boundless optimism was blinding him, but was admirable. And she may have been just the littlest bit unreasonable. Not that she was likely to admit that any time soon. 

It didn’t take long to get lost in her work, to turn her sole focus on the seedlings she’s taken from the forest and planting them in the beds. Transplanting them like this meant she’d have usable herbs sooner than just planting from seeds, which she’d done as well. She found she could relate to these little plants. Pulled from their forest home, transplanted into a new place. She used her magic to combat the shock of being pulled from their roots and replanted, wishing there was a spell like that for people too. 

She’d been planting for an hour, the feel of the dirt under her hands and the smell of herbs had quenched all remaining fire within her. She heard Cullen approaching behind her, his gait was hard to miss, he may not be a Templar anymore but he sure walked like one, almost a march. She wasn’t sure what to expect, so she kept working. 

“It looks really nice out here,” he said, words quiet, tentative. 

Plants. Let’s talk about the plants, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Because that was going to solve all their problems. “Yes well, it helps when you can speed up the process a bit.” She wiggled her fingers, but still did not look at him. 

He didn’t say anything, and she thought she better warn him, just in case, “Magic.” She turned to look at him now, the familiar feeling of her magic leaving her was accompanied by a blue light. She could feel the magic running into the seedling running through every root and to the tip of every leaf, but her eyes never left his face. 

Cullen stood, feet planted on the stone path, face expressionless, but there was no hiding the distrust in his eyes. It was as if he had forced himself to watch, and once the buzz of the magic had left the air he seemed to relax. She wished she could see inside his head. 

“About earlier,” he said looking away from her, voice a little grudging. She stood up and brushed her hands off on her breeches. “I owe you an apology.”

She tried to conceal her surprise at this reversal. He’d been so unreasonable before. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she remained silent. 

“You may have had a point. I may have let my personal life affect my reaction. It’s just that I want to make sure we do this right. I really believe we can be successful without it. I want to help these men, not make it more difficult for any of them.”

She narrowed her eyes. Choosing to ignore his careful word choice. It’s not that she  _ may _ have had a point, she did have a point. It’s not that he  _ may _ have let his personal life affect his reaction, he did. She bit her lip and contained her disapproval, “I understand, and I just want to make sure I’m prepared for any scenario.”

His honey colored eyes bore into hers and he sighed, “I know. You’re not my subordinate here. You’re an equal partner and your voice and opinions matter just as much as mine. And your experience as a healer probably supercedes my concerns.”

Equal partners, huh? She could tell he was trying very hard to trust her and to apologize for earlier. To show that he was not the unreasonable person she’d argued with in the infirmary. 

If he was conceding, she needed to at least a little, “If you end up being right, and we don’t need it in the first six months we’ll get rid of it. Won’t keep it here.”

He looked like he was fighting with himself, but he finally said, “I think I can live with that. But it must be kept under lock and key.”

“Somewhere only we know about,” she said. 

“Somewhere only you know about,” he corrected. 

She looked at his face, just how strong was the pull of lyrium still? After all this time? She’d had no idea. 

“Alright,” she held out her hand, hoping it wasn’t too dirt covered, “Truce?”

He smiled a little as he took her hand, “Truce.” It was an uneasy truce, they both knew that. But for now, it would work.

“What exactly did you just do? With the plant I mean,” he asked curiously. 

She studied him a moment, after his reaction he wanted to talk about magic? He was probably trying to be polite, ease the still palpable tension. She decided to give him an out, “We don’t have to talk about magic if you don’t want to.”

“I asked, didn’t I?” he crossed his arms across his chest. 

“You did,” she turned back to the plants in the bed, there were small mounds where she had planted seeds interspersed with seedlings of elfroot and embrium she’d taken from the forest. “Often when you transplant plants they go through a bit of a shock, the leaves droop they look like they haven’t been watered in days. Happens to some no matter how careful I am with the roots. The spell I used is just a simple one to combat that. Keeper Deshanna taught it to me. Each time my clan moved, we had to move the herbs too.” 

“So you’ve had a lot of practice with setting up herb gardens?” he asked. 

“You could say that.”

“Did your clan move a lot?” Cullen asked. 

She frowned at the question. It had been a struggle almost every time her clan had moved on from a place. She’d fall in love with the place and pray to the Creators for some amount of permanence. Inevitably they would move on, and she’d mourn the trees that had become familiar, the paths she’d carved through the forest, the feeling of home that had finally set in. All she ever wanted was a home. “More often than I liked.”

Cullen rubbed his neck, a nervous tick of his she’d noticed he often did that when he seemed unsure, or nervous. She realized she’d stalled the conversation.

“We should probably get back to work,” she blurted out. 

Cullen looked a little surprised, “Um...you’re right. Of course, I’ll leave you be.”

She stood for a moment and watched him walk into the house, his shoulders slightly slumped, while she replayed the broken notes of the last five minutes. She hadn’t meant to push him away, it had just happened. She’d been so wrapped up in the feelings his question had brought to the surface she hadn’t realized what she was saying. She exhaled deeply and got back to work. 

They spent the better part of a week working on the estate. Cullen’s siblings rotated work and sometimes the children were there too. But each night as they blew out the lamps in whatever room they were working on, it was like the house breathed a sigh of relief. Like it was getting tired of their collective efforts, but each morning when they arrived it looked just a little brighter, the windows somehow catching more light and as they worked. The exhaustion the house seemed to feel mirrored their own, but each day it felt far more like the haven that they aimed for. 

The house had been abandoned by the noble family not long after the Fifth Blight. While South Reach rebuilt itself, the house stood stoically, slowly decaying. Vines slowly climbing the walls, the once beautiful gardens taken over by weeds, and paint faded by years of rain and neglect. Until now. It was a place with purpose once more. 

On the final day before the first group of Templars was due to arrive, Mara arrived at the gate her things piled into the borrowed wagon pulled by one of Mia’s horses. She smiled, the estate looked as close to home as anything ever had. 

During the time they’d worked around the clock, Mara had the chance to get to know Cullen’s siblings. She found she was most comfortable around Rosalie. She never forced conversation, was content to work silently when conversation lapsed. She seemed to work to make Mara feel comfortable and it was Rosalie who met her at the gate, and helped her carry her belongings inside. 

Between the two of them, it only took a few trips to the wagon and back before all of her possessions were in the room. It only looked slightly less empty. Her entire life fit neatly in a few crates that were packed full of clothing and books. She didn’t have much in the way of sentimental objects, just one small ironbark-lidded box which she’d made so many years ago. The objects inside were seemingly random to anyone but her. Some small pieces of oak, a dried wildflower, and a wooden halla. The only things tethering her to her clan besides the vallaslin that snaked up her arm. 

“Thank you for your help,” she said as she set down the last crate. 

“Not that you needed much help,” Rosalie commented, looking around the room. 

Mara didn’t know how to have more than a few things. She’d moved often enough with her clan, and still more for the Inquisition. “In my clan you can’t have a lot. We moved around so much, you learned not to get to attached to anything.”

“You know, I really don’t know much about the Dalish,” Rosalie admitted, “I don’t remember my parents ever speaking of them, all I know are silly stories other children told, which can never be believed.”

“Like the elves would come steal you away in the night?” Mara laughed. 

Rosalie looked a little sheepish, “Something like that.”

“It’s sort of silly, most clans avoid humans. My clan was different that way, usually having positive dealings. Trading every now and again, trying to stay connected to what was happening outside the clan.”

Rosalie smiled as she asked, “Do you miss your clan?”

It seemed like a simple question, but to Mara it was anything but simple. The normal answer would be yes, but it wasn’t quite true, but neither was saying no. She bit her lip as she considered the question. “I miss what used to be. Who I was with them.”

Rosalie cocked her head at the response, blonde hair swinging about her shoulders, “Would you  ever go back?”

This answer was easier, something she’d had to decide a long time ago, “No. Once my parents died, I didn’t feel like I belonged there anymore.”

Rosalie smiled understandingly, a quiet sadness in her eyes, “I understand. That’s why we left Honnleath after the Blight.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to start over somewhere else,” Mara said, looking out the window and seeing the trees sway in the breeze. 

Rosalie nodded, then changed the subject, “We should let Cullen and Branson know we’re done with the wagon.”

Cullen and Branson needed it to pick up the new furniture. Mara walked with Rosalie back into the infirmary, still empty save for the desk against the wall, but by the end of the day it would look like a true infirmary. For now, there was still plenty of work to be done. 

The three children ran through the still empty rooms, laughing and squealing while they carried the furniture in. Branson and Cullen seemed to be holding some sort of contest, to see who would bring the most in by themselves. Mara and Rosalie stood near the wagon waiting to be handed pieces to take inside. 

“That desk job of yours make it so you don’t remember how to do real work?” Branson teased. 

Cullen barked a laugh, “The heaviest thing you carry on a regular basis is Henry.”

Branson pretended to be wounded, but look amused, “Did my brother actually make a joke?”

Cullen smiled, “Must be your corrupting influence.”

“Hear that, Rosie? I’m a corrupting influence.” Branson seemed pleased. 

Rosie laughed and followed them inside. Mara couldn’t help but smile, she didn’t have siblings and seeing the Rutherfords interact was unusually entertaining. 

Mia insisted that they have a celebratory meal to christen the kitchen that night. Mara wanted to excuse herself and not be an imposition, but since she lived at the estate now, she could hardly avoid it. So she tried to make herself useful with Mia and Rosalie in the kitchen. Mara wasn’t a great cook, but could get by. She almost sighed in relief when Mia asked her to chop some vegetables. That was something she couldn’t screw up. 

Mia and Rosalie orbited each other gracefully around the kitchen and Mara could see just how practiced this meal preparing ritual was. She felt as though she was intruding even as she talked casually with them while they worked. She felt like she threw off their rhythm in the kitchen, the close relationship they obviously shared made her feel left out. She only joined in when she had to, which was pretty easy since Mia and Rosalie prattled on about people she didn’t know. 

When the meal was ready she helped Mia carry the dishes to the table while Rosalie went outside to fetch everyone else. She looked quietly at the table, it sure looked like a celebration to her. She was unsure where to sit so she shuffled quietly and searched for something to busy herself with to avoid having to sit down. 

Rosalie must have noticed her hesitation when she walked in, because she strode up right next to her and smiled, “Why don’t you sit by me?”

“Of course,” she held in a sigh of relief, but tried to convey her gratitude to Rosalie all the same. 

Branson took up the other side of her, while Cullen sat across from him. Mia sat at the head of the table, obviously bearing the mantle as head of this family. 

She took the hands of her husband and Mara watched as everyone else at the table took the hands of the people on either side of them, so she followed suit. Cullen caught her eye, casting an apologetic glance her way before bowing his head with the rest of the family. 

She did the same while Mia prayed to the Maker. The words were familiar, she’d heard bits and pieces of the Chant of Light over the past few years, just never in this context. The words were always spoken with the same cadence, so it made them easy to recognize.

Mia said, “Amen.” Mara looked up and murmured amen with everyone. Almost as soon as the prayer ended the the dinner began and her attention was pulled between both Branson and Rosalie who seemed to be eager to speak to her both at once, leaving her unsure who to listen to. 

It felt strange, awkward to be the only guest amongst this family, but they’d accepted and included her without question. While the voice in the back of her head whispered she was a burden, unwanted, she sat at the table and tried to belong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an uneasy resolution for Mara and Cullen, but don't worry. This is something that definitely will be revisited a little later on. The Templars arrive in the next chapter, and I think we'll see that everyone will get a bit of a wake-up call. As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you! Let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Templars arrive, but things aren't going exactly according to plan. Cullen finds himself wondering if this was a good idea after all.

Cullen awoke with a gasp of breath and a moment of confusion. He stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, a grip of panic making it hard for him to breath. Where was he? He shot up from the bed, blankets pooled around him, and slowly the realization came. He was in his room at the estate. His room. He took a deep breath, relief washing over him.

He’d noticed that lately his mornings started with disorientation. Sometimes it lasted a few minutes, sometimes just a few seconds. He wanted to blame it on all the moving he’d done recently, from Skyhold to Mia’s, from Mia’s to here. But there was the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this was just another withdrawal symptom that he’d have to learn to live with. Maker he hoped it was the moving. 

Bright morning light poured in through the window, illuminating everything in blue-gold hues. His room was small, one of the smallest in the house, almost empty save for the bed and dresser they’d managed to squeeze into the room. He’d argued he didn’t need much space here, he had an office downstairs and felt guilty for taking more than that. The room felt even smaller since he had placed his armor stand in the corner, it acted like a war shrine, taking all focus from everything else. A reminder of who he had been. The only piece he’d touched since arriving in South Reach was his sword, and even then he’d left it leaned it it’s place most days.

He wondered if Mara was awake yet. The evening before, she’d excused herself early leaving him with his siblings. The act annoyed him for some inexplicable reason. She was likely the most insufferable woman in all of Thedas. And he’d know. He’d dealt with his fair share of insufferable and powerful women. She was obstinate and abrupt, he’d apologized but she’d still pushed him away. 

If she wanted space that’s what she would get. He sat on the edge of his bed, it creaked at his movement as ran a hand down his face. Since the other day in the garden he’d been doing his best to avoid her. Sweet Andraste, that wouldn’t be easy, seeing as he’d invited the woman to live with him. They had to speak today, more than polite chatter and quiet glances. Really talk. They needed to discuss final preparations and plans. And they’d have to breach the subject of Templars and lyrium again and he was dreading it. 

As he was dressing he heard the rise and fall of voices from downstairs. He frowned. He figured the group of Templars would arrive this afternoon at the earliest, they couldn’t possibly be here now, could they? Had Mara not woken him at their arrival? Anger seethed under his skin.   
He threw his tunic on quickly, and without pausing to even fix his hair he hurried downstairs to investigate. 

“The apothecary said you left the hospital to come work here,” a quavering voice drifted from the infirmary. 

“I know, I left him instructions for how to make your tea so that you could get it from him any time you needed it,” Mara’s voice said gently. 

“I was worried he might not do it right.” 

Cullen rounded the corner to see a small old woman sitting on one of the beds in the infirmary while Mara was handing her a small package. Mara eyes were kind as she helped the woman stand up.  

It was hard to stay mad at her as he watched her help the old woman start moving. Maker’s breath, she was helping someone. He scolded himself for his anger. 

“I’m always happy to put this together for you. Anytime,” Mara smiled. 

The old woman stood and eyed him through graying hair, “Thank you dear.” She patted Mara’s hand and hobbled out. Cullen moved out of the doorway so that the woman could exit. The old woman gave him a distrustful look. 

“You be careful with Templars,” the woman called to Mara, while not taking her eyes off of him. 

Mara smirked a little, “I’ll keep an eye on him.” The old woman looked appeased and continued out of the house, her walking stick hitting the ground with her footfalls. 

Cullen gave Mara a questioning look. Mara pursed her lips, looking like she’d been caught doing something wrong. He must have looked upset by the scene he just witnessed, because she immediately dove into an explanation. 

“I make a tea that helps with her arthritis. I left instructions with the apothecary, but she didn’t trust him,” the words leaving her lips in a rush.

“You act like you did something wrong,” he said. 

Mara shifted her weight from one foot to another uncomfortably, “I don’t know...I didn’t charge her anything. The woman can barely afford to live. I just didn’t know if it would be alright for me to treat people here.” She wasn’t accusing him with her words, but he knew that her actions were betraying her. She didn’t trust that he’d let her treat other people. It stung a little. It was yet another complication of their argument the other day, and it needed to resolved. 

“Mara, anyone that comes here, you can help. Never be worried about that,” Cullen said. He wanted her to hear the sincerity in his voice. Then trying to lighten the mood, “I don’t think she likes me.”

Mara chuckled a little, “She doesn’t like anyone. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“She likes you,” he moved closer to her desk where she was busying herself. 

“I make the pain stop, she has to like me,” Mara smiled. Cullen wanted to sigh with relief. Mara’s self-deprecating humor was back and it felt as though some of the tension that weighed between them had lightened.   

“Have you had breakfast? I think Mia left some muffins for us if you’d like,” Cullen turned towards the kitchen. 

“I’m fine, I’ll keep working here, but when you’re done we can discuss your plan for when the group arrives,” Mara said without looking at him. 

Cullen’s stomach dropped, any headway he may have made this morning in trying to work out whatever there was between them had been obliterated with her refusal. He entered the kitchen and yanked the basket Mia had left towards him. There was the tiniest bit of disappointment twisting in his gut at her refusal. He ignored it. 

He took a muffin from the basket on the table and walked to his office as he ate, sorting through the stacks of papers on the desk in his office he hadn’t had time to organize. He’d claimed one of the front rooms, just down the hall from the infirmary for an office. It was smaller than his office in Skyhold, but infinitely more comfortable. A fireplace on one side of the room would provide warmth when the weather turned, and Mia had insisted he have a couch placed in the office. A bookcase stood next to the couch, sparsely populated since he had only brought a few books with him from Skyhold. He wasn’t sure how military strategy books might be useful here, but the familiarity of seeing them sitting on a shelf helped him feel more at home. 

He finished his muffin and brushed off the few crumbs he’d managed to scatter on his papers, mostly supply lists and things that needed to be completed before the Templars arrived and willed himself back to the infirmary. 

Mara looked up and smiled, “You’ve got a little…” and she brushed against the side of her face. 

He felt a bit of embarrassment as he brought the hand up to the scruff he’d let accumulate in the last few days and brushed crumbs out of it. “Thanks,” he said without looking at her. Hoping the amused expression would be gone when he finally did have to look back at her. 

“So….when they arrive, what are your thoughts?” he looked up then. She was sitting at her desk, but angled away from it towards him as he sat down on the nearest bed, the only other seating the room offered. 

“I thought perhaps a tour would be in order,” he offered. She nodded but watched him gravely before she spoke. 

“I think we will need to ask them for any lyrium they have,” Mara said cautiously, eyes trained on him. They hadn’t spoken of lyrium since out in the garden. He supposed she’d been able to procure some, but he hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to know. Thinking about it too much set his teeth on edge. It’d been easier the last few weeks for him, there was no lyrium anywhere near him, the blue song couldn’t reach him. But knowing there might be some here, his stomach clenched uncomfortably as his veins wished for the liquid to rush through them once more. 

But she had a point, if they had lyrium, they’d have to take it. And chances were after several days of travelling they would have their philters with them. 

“You can take care of that?” he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful that she would say yes. 

Her green eyes softened, “Of course.”

A thought hit him, “We should take their weapons too.”

Her brow furrowed, “Why?”

“Hallucinating was a problem for me. We ought to take all weapons from them, for their own safety and for ours.”

“Alright,” she said, and marked something off on her list, “You take the weapons, I’ll take the lyrium.” 

“Sounds like a deal,” he said looking down the list to the next item. 

Most of the morning passed that way, polite conversation as they worked steadily through what needed to be done. There was only the small interruption as Mia arrived to start dinner for that night, she stopped in for a moment to say hello before leaving again. 

After nearly two hours, they separated, Mara leaving him to go tend to her garden. She’d been putting together sleeping draughts, elfroot potions, and mixes of herbs he had no idea what their purpose might be. While she worked, he went back to his room, taking the time to shave and attempt to tame his hair that had grown longer than he ever had allowed it to at Skyhold. He mentally noted to ask Mia for a haircut soon. 

He hadn’t been in his office but five minutes when he heard the sound of horses outside, there was an immediate clench of anxiety within his chest. It was really beginning. Right now. He heard Mara’s soft tread through the hall, and then she leaned on the doorframe of his office. If she was nervous, she wasn’t showing it, arms crossed, eyes fixed out the window. 

“I think they’re here,” she said, a smile playing on her lips.  

He took a deep breath, “Let’s begin?”

She gestured toward the door, “Lead the way.”

He was momentarily blinded when they walked out into the bright late-afternoon sun. It was a cloudless day and he strode right through the front yard to the road where four horses were stopped, Templar armor flashing in the sunlight as the riders dismounted. 

“Cullen!” Barris called, a grin spreading across his face. 

There were three other Templars with them, as he’d been expecting. “Delrin Barris, it is good to see you!” he said taking his hand and then being pulled into a hug. 

“Cassandra sends her regards,” Barris’s deep voice reverberated around him. 

“She’s well?”

“Quite, got her hands full between helping the Divine and reforming the Seekers.” 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Cullen said, someone familiar in all of this did wonders for his nervousness. With Barris there, it was easy to fall back into the role of Commander he knew so well.  

“Let me introduce you to Ser Nathaniel, Ser Beatrice, and Ser Gregory,” Barris signaled to the other three Templars with him in turn, “Cullen Rutherford, former Commander of the Inquisition.”

They each saluted him and looked expectantly to Mara standing not far behind him, “And this is Mara Lavellan, head healer.”

“Head healer denotes that there’s more than one,” Mara cocked an eyebrow teasingly, “It’s nice to meet you all.”

Barris strode forward taking her hand, “It’s nice to meet you m’lady.” She looked like she was trying to stifle a laugh.

“We can probably dispense with the formalities,” Mara smiled, “You can just call me Mara.”

The other Templars nodded politely at her, but Cullen noticed that Nathaniel eyed her suspiciously and exchanged a look with Beatrice. Maker he hoped there wasn’t going to be a problem. 

“I’ll show you where to put your horses and then we can go inside,” Cullen said, leading them around to the stables. They hadn’t done much work on the building beyond removing the fallen beams and shingles from the small area where the roof had caved. It was structurally sound enough, and it would hold the horses until Branson could take them to Mia’s. 

Once inside the awkward bit began, Mara waited for his cue. “We need to ask you to take any lyrium you brought with you and give it to Mara, and any weapons you have, give them to me.”

Ser Nathaniel looked the most concerned about this, “Why our weapons?” Cullen stood frozen at the question that lingered in the air, he wasn’t sure how to explain the need for them to give up their weapons. 

“Cullen experienced very strong hallucinations as part of the withdrawal process, it’s for your safety, and everyone else’s,” Mara said quietly, jumping in when she noticed his discomfort.

“You’ll get them back, I’ll just be keeping them safe,” Cullen tried to prompt when Nathaniel still looked unconvinced, dark eyes darting between the two of them. 

Barris nudged his shoulder, “Come on Nathaniel, they’re here to help us.”

“You’re an apostate, aren’t you?” Nathaniel asked rounding on Mara. She didn’t even flinch as he stepped within inches of her. He was tall, taller than Cullen, and he towered over Mara. Cullen immediately recognized the intimidation technique. It was one he knew well, had used it often enough himself. Cullen fought both the guilt bubbling within him and the urge to step between them. He wondered if he was the only one who noticed Mara’s ears turning bright red.

Mara bit down on her words, hands clenched at her sides but looked up at him defiantly, “I’m Dalish, yes.”

Beatrice looked her over and then turned to him, “And you trust her?”

“I served the Inquisition, same as you. They didn’t have any qualms about my background,” Mara said before Cullen could respond. Her eyes blazed with green fire, but Nathaniel and Beatrice looked unimpressed.

As much as he’d distrusted magic in the past, he trusted Leliana and what little he’d observed of Mara in the hospital showed him she was obviously a skilled mage. In the silence, the tension in the room was mounted higher. 

“The Divine recommended Mara to me personally. I’ll not entertain any questions about her abilities. I’ve seen her work, I trust her with my life,” Cullen said with authority. The Inquisition had changed a lot of things between mages and Templars, but some attitudes don’t die easily. Maker knew it took him years, and that his first instinct was still to be afraid. 

Mara’s face relaxed into gratitude. He wasn’t sure if he did trust her with his life, but the sentiment seemed to shut Beatrice and Nathaniel up. Barris and Gregory passed their lyrium kits to Mara without question. Nathaniel and Beatrice reluctantly handed them over to her and she left the room quietly as they turned over their weapons. Cullen’s eyes followed the Mara out of the room, mouth dry. He could almost feel the pull of the lyrium, he tore his eyes away from her with some effort and turned his attention back to the Templars. 

“You’ll have your own rooms eventually, but for this first bit it’ll be easier to treat you if you’re all in the same place,” Cullen said as they set down their belongings.

“More comfortable than the barracks,” Beatrice said, which prompted a chuckle from the group. 

Mara returned to the room, “As soon as you feel up to it, we’ll move you upstairs.”

“What exactly can we expect with the withdrawal? Cassandra explained very little,” Barris looked to Cullen. 

“That was something we were going to discuss today,” he looked at Mara, a silent appeal on his face. He was not sure he was ready to take questions about this. The Templars sat down on their beds, attention on them. 

“We really only have Cullen’s experience to go off of,” Mara began, glancing to Cullen for help he didn’t want to give, “Um...I expect everyone’s experience will be a little different.”

They continued to watch the two of them, Mara eyes slid back to Cullen, waiting to see if he would jump in. When he didn’t, she continued, “The first week will be where the symptoms are the most pronounced. Nausea, headaches, weakness. And then after that, the intensity and frequency should subside somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” Beatrice looked alarmed. 

Mara shot him a look, Cullen sighed, “I have more good days than bad days. But there are times when the withdrawal symptoms hit me just as hard as ever. The headaches and nausea still happen.” The moments of disorientation too, but he was not ready to admit that to anyone yet. 

The Templars remained quiet, letting the reality sink in. Barris was the first to recover, “I’ll deal with whatever I must if I get to keep my mind my own.” It sounded like a rallying cry and the rest of the Templars murmured in agreement. 

“How about a tour?” Cullen asked, hoping to get off of the subject of his withdrawal experience, there would be plenty of time for them to discuss this later. Everyone perked up at the suggestion and Cullen took the Templars around while Mara glowered at him as he left. He tried to look apologetic, he hadn’t meant to leave all of the explanations to her. He hadn’t meant to lean on her that much. 

They toured until his family arrived. They met Mia and Matthew in the kitchen, Clara and Liam bounded in bearing loaves of bread in their arms, bouncing excitedly at the prospect of meeting more knights. 

“What, did you think you were feeding a whole battalion or something?” he asked Mia with a laugh. 

“Mara said this was the last meal they were likely to eat for a few days, I wanted it to be a good one,” Mia said quietly to him, while Clara and Liam began pestering the Templars with questions. 

He nodded. Mara. They hadn’t spoken since the infirmary. He was sure he was going to get an earful for his tactics. He’d made some excuse to go to his office just for a moment alone, when she cornered him out of earshot from the others. 

“Cullen,” she looked at him severely. 

He wanted to keep this from escalating into another argument, “I know. I’m sorry.”

She pursed her lips, but she didn’t look angry, “I can’t guide them through this experience. I can heal, but you’ve done this. You’re going to have to open up to them at some point.”

He leaned against the wall of the hallway, the sconces on the wall glowed dimly, casting yellow light over the space between them. He ran a hand through his hair and shifted on his feet. 

“You’re right,” he said, looking away from her. Why exactly had he decided this was a good idea? He could barely deal with his own problems, much less help others in dealing with theirs. His eyes slid shut as he leaned his head against the wall behind him.  

“Hey,” she put her hand on his shoulder, he almost bristled at the contact, touch was foreign between them. Those green eyes pierced through his soul. “I know what you’re thinking, but you can do this. You are enough.”

Voices echoed from the other room and Mara disappeared without another word, leaving him standing in the hallway trying to figure out how to do this. Mara’s words replayed over again in his mind.  _ You are enough. You are enough. You are enough. _ Despite everything that had happened, she believed in him. Believed in what they were doing. Perhaps for now, that was enough.

He pushed off the wall and walked back into the dining room. The table was clearly divided. The Templars on one end of the table, Mara with his family on the other. He took his seat in the middle with wild hope that he might be able to bridge the divide. 

The dinner passed without incident. The schism at the table eased a bit with Clara and Liam’s boundless curiosity about the knights. The Templars enthusiastically answered their questions, Cullen noticed Gregory hung back. He hadn’t said a word on the tour that day. He worried over it for a moment, but was pulled back into Nathaniel’s exaggerated story about a varghest he’d fought in the Western Approach. 

At the first break he could find, he led Barris out into the courtyard. 

“Nathaniel and Beatrice can be a little prickly, I apologize for their behavior earlier, but they’re committed to this, same as me,” Barris said quietly, looking behind him as if they might hear. 

“They seem like a handful,” Cullen commented, walking to the steps and sitting down. The stars peppering the sky above them and the cool evening air a relief from the warm dining room. 

Barris nodded and joined him on the steps, “They complained for most of the journey, but I’m not their commanding officer. There wasn’t a lot I could do.”

“At any rate, Gregory seems pleasant enough.”

“Gregory is a good kid. A little odd, but he shouldn’t be any trouble,” Barris said with confidence. 

“It was good of you to bring them here,” Cullen replied. 

“So, this is your life post-Inquisition?” Barris asked, gesturing around him. 

“You sound surprised,” he laughed. 

Barris laughed deeply, “I am, I thought they’d have to pry your cold, dead fingers away from that desk of yours.”

“I wasn’t at my desk that much,” Cullen protested.

Barris wasn’t convinced, “Just night and day. Sending reports off at all hours.”

He looked back at the last few years of his life, he’d worked hard, had a purpose. Work was something easy to focus on. “I had a lot to do.”

“Never said you didn’t. Lorraine was always adamant that you worked more than was good for your health,” Barris said. 

There it was. Her name. His family had at least refrained from asking any questions about her, but here Barris was, mentioning her as if she was still a part of everyday life. Sitting there with Barris made him feel like there was less distance between him and Lorraine. He wasn’t sure that he liked the reminder of her existence. He swallowed hard. 

“So what are your plans? After this?” Cullen changed the subject. 

Barris frowned, “I hadn’t gotten that far. I hoped something might show itself. I don’t know anything beyond being a Templar.”

“Nor I,” Cullen admitted. 

“But you’ve found a way to use that,” Barris reminded him. 

“You will too, that’s what we’re here for,” Cullen smiled. 

“Is it difficult? Starting a new life?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When I joined the Order, I knew where my life was going, the things it might include. It seemed all decided for me. Without that purpose, I don’t know what I’ll be,” Barris said, his voice was melancholy and the most unsure Cullen had ever heard it. 

He thought about the parallel realization he’d come to a few years ago, that his life was whatever he shaped it to be. Things hadn’t gone exactly according to plan, but he was here none the less. 

“It’s hard,” Cullen said, “but to have my family back, to know my life is my own, it makes a difference.”

“Your family is very kind for helping take us in,” Barris commented, “And Mara, she’s got spirit.”

“Yes, she does,” and he couldn’t help but smile a little remembering her courage against Nathaniel. She was constantly surprising him.

“Cullen,” Barris interrupted his thoughts, “We should rejoin the others.”

He stood up, “You’re right.”

He cast one last look up at the stars before following Barris through the door. Hoping to the Maker that he could do this, that this could work.

That was the last peaceful night he would know for what felt like an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait on this update. This chapter was difficult to write because there is an awful lot of set up for what comes next. I've already got most of the next chapter written, so it shouldn't be quite so long! Thank you so much for sticking around here! Your interest and encouragement keep me going!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helping the Templars with lyrium withdrawal is much worse than Mara ever imagined. Note: I've upped the rating and adjusted the tags to reflect the content of the chapters and will continue to do so as it becomes necessary. Read safely my friends.

Neither of them had slept in three days. There hadn’t been time, no reprieve from the onslaught of symptoms of withdrawal that the Templars experienced. It’d all hit at different times, Nathaniel the last of them to succumb to withdrawal. It had been as bad as Cullen said,  _ No it’s worse. So much worse. _

She was holding Barris on his side, he’d complained of deep muscle aches so bad he could hardly move, so she held him as he vomited to his side into a chamberpot. When she tried to help with magic she soon found that it was never enough. That she would drain herself completely trying to combat the symptoms, the pain, everything. So she had made Barris drink some elfroot tea to take the edge off of the pain, an apparently terrible idea as it was violently leaving his system as she held him to his side. 

Cullen was helping Nathaniel back into his bed. Nathaniel kept getting muscle cramps and the jerky movements he involuntarily made to try to relieve the pain had knocked him from his bed. Cullen threw a concerned look over to her after one particularly strong jerk wracked Nathaniel’s body. 

The room reminded Mara of death. The curtains were drawn, blocking out as much light as possible as it made the headaches worse. Candles and lanterns cast sickly yellow glows and grotesque shadows around them as they worked. Without the light from the windows, it was hard to judge the time. More than that was the overwhelming stench of human decay. The Templars sweat through clothes and sheets and vomited often. It didn’t matter how quickly it was handled, the smell remained. 

She handed Barris a goblet of water, “Swish, but don’t drink.” He followed her instructions. Then she placed a towel over the chamberpot and picked it up. Cullen took it from her hands and disappeared from the infirmary. She wiped her forehead with the back of her arm, thankful that Cullen was here to help. 

Beatrice was crying again. She’d been weeping on and off since yesterday? The past few days all ran together in a blur of attempts to help. Beatrice had been the most vocal, begging for lyrium, a quick knife anything to make the migraines stop. The migraines had been so bad she hyperventilated, the lack of air making it so she couldn’t move her hands. She pulled at her long brown hair and thrashed in her bed. The beautiful woman who had sneered at her just a few days prior was gone, before her lay a shadow. Looking as fragile as glass and not at all like the warrior she was. Mara sat patiently on the edge of her bed, dragging cool fingers along her scalp in soothing patterns and massaging the webbing between her thumb and forefinger, pushing just enough magic out to help. Beatrice’s breathing slowed as she hummed a Dalish song, reminding Beatrice to breathe. 

There was little she could do, but she tried as best she could. Checking on each one in turn unless their strangled cries called her to their bedside sooner. She did everything she could think of, but the withdrawal symptoms continued to barrage them all faster than she could ease their pain. She would have taken the hospital at Adamant or in the Arbor Wilds over this any day. At least there she had been able to be truly useful, to heal wounds. Here and now, nothing she did was enough.

Branson, Mia and Rosalie appeared at different intervals. They brought with them food, clean sheets to replace the sweat and sick drenched ones, offering aide where they could. Mara looked forward to their arrivals, it was a way to gauge the time. To remind herself that there was a world outside of the infirmary, one that wasn’t filled with suffering she couldn’t fix. Things were mostly quiet when Mia arrived. Cullen had just returned, placing the now clean chamberpot next to Barris’s bed. 

Cullen appeared at her side, “Mia can’t stay very long, but why don’t you go change? We can handle everything here for a few minutes.”

“Bring any laundry you need done to me,” Mia offered. 

Mara nodded thankfully and hurried off to her room. As soon as the door shut behind her she pulled her soiled tunic over her head, stripped off her breeches and leaned heavily against the wall and slid down to the floor. Her knees up to her chest, she took a few deep breaths, trying to cut off the sobs that were trying to work their way out of her. She felt the pinprick of tears burn in the corners of her eyes and she bit down on her lip in an attempt to center herself. 

_ Fenedhis Iasa, pull yourself together, _ she scolded herself. She’d had soldiers brought to her that had been gutted like fish and hadn’t even flinched as she got to work. She told herself she’d seen far worse than this, but she wasn’t sure if she believed it.  

She pushed herself up from the floor, she didn’t have time to fall apart. She grabbed a clean tunic and breeches as she picked up the dirty clothes that had been ripped from off her body and scattered on the floor between screams from the infirmary. She stuffed them into a bag and caught her reflection in the small mirror in the corner of the room. She looked like hell. What she wouldn’t give for a bath, or sleep. She looked longingly at her bed, wanted to climb between the blankets and hide from all of this. But she had a job to do so she walked out without another glance. 

Time continued to pass in lurching blurs of cleaning, helping, and soothing. The needs were constantly shifting and it seemed that no matter how much she did they moved from one crisis to the next. The only constant was the feeling of exhaustion that prevailed, settling into her bones, making them feel heavy. 

Cullen hadn’t slept either,the circles under his eyes a light purple, veins visible if you were close enough. She’d encouraged him to go and get some rest on more than one occasion. But the obstinate man refused to leave. He seemed reserved, upset by the scene playing out around him. She couldn’t blame him, if she had a second to think about it she would have been disturbed by it too. Branson and Rosalie were due to arrive late tonight and she hoped beyond hope that things would have calmed enough that they could handle everything without her for just a few hours. 

Barris was writhing in his bed, moaning and pulling her from her thoughts. 

“No! We’re under attack,” he screamed. Cullen got there first, placing hands on his shoulders. 

“Delrin!” he tried to pull him back to reality as he kicked the sheets off his legs in an attempt to get up.

Barris’s eyes were wide with terror, “Commander Cullen, the Red Templars are here!” His dark fingers clutched Cullen’s shirt so tightly his knuckles paled. 

“There aren’t any Red Templars here Delrin,” Cullen said calmly, using his first name to bring him out of the hallucination. Barris continued to writhe in his bed, looking around wildly. 

“Give him this,” Mara handed Cullen a small vial, sleeping draught. 

Cullen nodded and coaxed Barris back down, “I need you to drink this.” He unstoppered the vial and held it to Barris’s lips. 

“I can’t,” Barris cried, shaking his head and moving away from Cullen. 

Cullen looked conflicted before swallowing hard and saying, “That’s an order soldier.” And Barris complied. He sank down into the bed heavily, eyes falling shut, quiet at last. 

Cullen handed her the empty vial, guilt coloring his gaze. She placed her hand on his arm, “You did good.” It was all she could manage. She didn’t have time to comfort him too. Cullen shook his head and walked between the beds, going to check on Beatrice.  

Gregory was different. He didn’t cry out for her. When she managed to make it to his bedside, he looked up at her with gratitude when she asked him what she could do. The nausea hit him the hardest, his pale skin turning gaunt, hollow-cheeked, but he never complained. He was the youngest of the group, he’d told her he took his vows right before the Circles fell. She had wondered if the withdrawal process might be easier for him, because he hadn’t been taking the lyrium as long as the rest. But her theory was shattered as the days wore on. 

“How are you feeling?” Mara asked feeling his forehead. He’d been running a fever for a while now.He leaned into her touch, cool fingers on burning skin. But he immediately winced at the movement.

“I’m going to be sick,” he whispered, his quiet cue for her to hold the chamberpot for him to retch into. 

He was so weak he couldn’t sit up, so she rolled him to his side and rubbed circles into his back as he heaved up bile. There was nothing else left in his system. When his body ceased convulsing, Cullen appeared, taking the chamber pot from him. 

“Thank you,” Gregory’s weak voice reached her ears. 

She gently guided him back onto his pillows, his eyes watching her the whole time. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. The sleep deprivation was clearly getting to him too. 

She smiled gently down at him, “Thank you. How does your head feel?”

“It’s fine,” he rasped. She took his hand anyways, applying pressure and sending her magic coursing through his veins. He sighed with relief. He refused to complain, but sleep had been elusive for him. 

“Would you like a sleeping draught? It might help,” Mara offered, hoping he could keep it down long enough to work. 

“I don’t mind,” he smiled weakly. She dropped his hand gently onto the bed. Looking for a moment around the room. It was oddly quiet. Barris and Beatrice sleeping. She wasn’t sure if Nathaniel was asleep. She hoped he was. She looked at the curtained window, there wasn’t any light sneaking out under it, she prayed it was past sunset. Branson and Rosalie would be due sometime soon. If things remained calm she might get a break. 

Suddenly Nathaniel cried out sitting straight up in his bed. Mara was there in an instant, with Cullen on her heels. 

“Nathaniel, what can we do?” Mara said, placing her hands on his shoulders, trying ease him back down into his bed. 

“Get off me you apostate bitch!” he roared, then looking around wildly he screamed, “Abomination! Abomination!”

Cullen looked to her, “Sleeping draught?” 

Mara pulled out a sleeping draught, “Hold him down while I give it to him.” She saw Branson and Rosalie appear at the door, and she wanted to cry with relief.  

“You will not use your blood magic on me!” Nathaniel cried as she brought the draught to his lips while Cullen held his arms, pushing him back into the bed, his skin slick with sweat.

Nathaniel roared and Mara felt an invisible weight hit her square in the chest. She felt the world move around her as she was flung backwards. Her head hit the edge of the desk with a crack. She couldn’t move, couldn't think. She was cut off from her magic and she felt as though she was being pulled down a deep hole in the ground. She registered Branson taking another draught from her pocket and then….

_ She was running through the forest. The ground a blur beneath her feet. It was dusk, the oranges and pinks filtered in through the green leaves of the trees around her. The feeling was exhilarating. She lived for the feeling of the wind twirling through her hair, the smell of the grass and trees making her feel at home.  _

_ Her parents trailed not far behind and she wound through well-worn paths, committed to memory. She’d had her lessons with Keeper Deshanna all day, but she looked forward to this time with her parents more and more as she felt weighed down with all the responsibilities of being the clan’s First. _

_ Daggers in hand, hunting in the forest was what felt natural to her, almost as natural as the magic she wielded. She sent snowflakes careening in the air around her as her magic flowed in her unbridled joy. Keeper Deshanna wouldn’t be pleased, but out here, her parents wouldn’t scold her for it.  _

_ She entered the clearing without another thought, so familiar were the paths. But then she felt it, heard movement ahead of her. This was wrong, something was very very wrong. She felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle, her heart sank. She skidded to a stop in the grass, only to be thrown back. She felt her connection to the Fade sever immediately. It left her feeling weak and shaky. The stars above her watched calmly as they blinked to life above the treeline. She could hear her parents coming behind her, but she couldn’t even use her voice to warn them. The Templars were upon her now, she felt the thud of their tread as they ran towards her, the yells of apostate ripping through the night air.  _

_ Her father wrenched her to her feet, his green eyes wide with fury, “Run da’len. GO! Get the clan!” _

_ She wasn’t sure where the power to run came from, but she was running back to the camp even as black threatened to cloud her vision entirely. She fought through, no room for terror in her heart, only the push forward, one foot ahead of another.  _

_ The camp came into view and she stumbled to the ground. Finding her voice with gasping breaths, “Templars. My parents. The clearing to the north of us.” _

_ She collapsed to the ground fully, listening to the footfalls of her clan running off into the forest, towards her parents. Her chest was heaving up and down as she fought for breath. She kept reaching for her magic, but there was nothing there. Nothing to grasp to. Panic rose up within her, was it gone forever?  _

_ “Stay here,” a voice said above her before it ran off through the forest. But her parents. She had to get to them. She pushed herself up, managing to sway through the forest, unable to run. Grasping tree branches to pull herself forward and push off from them she moved slowly. She felt like she was moving through a thick fog, her brain unable to focus on anything but the impossible task of walking.  _

_ By the time she reached the clearing, it was all over. She stumbled through the clearing, looking mutely for her parents amongst those of her clan. She saw the glint of blonde in the moonlight, her mother...but she was laying in the grass. Why was she lying there? She rushed forward with the last of her energy to find her mother, eyes wide, but clearly dead.  _

_ Before she could even process what was happening her eyes alighted on another crumpled body not to far off, unmistakably her father.  _

_ Then the darkness gripped her, and all she remembered were strong arms carrying her away from the clearing.  _

Strong arms encircled her now, pulling her back to reality, but darkness still lingered close by. She could still hear the cries from that night in her ears. Or was the sound coming from her? Her body was shaking. 

“Get her out of here, we’ve got this,” Branson’s voice insisted. She couldn’t even protest as she felt herself being carried away. 

Rosalie spoke next, “Here you’ll need these.” She felt something being placed on her lap as she was cradled against someone. Then the darkness overtook her again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Thoughts?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen comforts Mara after what happened in the infirmary, but finds she has more secrets than he thought.

Cullen walked the infirmary and felt that he was in his own personal hell. In each of the Templars he saw his own battle with lyrium. A facet of it too poignant to ignore. It was like he was looking at his struggles all played out in front of him. Everything he’d been through and put others through on display.

It was like he was being rubbed against a stone, over and over until he was raw and aching. He prayed for numbness. He took every bedpan and chamberpot filled with sick out of the room and cleaned it. Anything for the moment of reprieve. The relative silence of the kitchen. The escape from his demons. 

Mara had told him to go get some sleep more than once. But he couldn’t leave. This was his doing. If anyone should be there, it should be him. So instead he stayed and followed her every  instruction and felt useless. He wasn’t a healer, and it was exhausting to be around so much suffering and be so helpless. There was nothing he could do to help and the weight of that settled on his shoulders, like he was carrying it with him everywhere he went. He was well acquainted with sleep deprivation and exhaustion, but this was different. The aching settled deep within him, each movement seemed to take so much effort. And yet he wouldn’t allow himself to leave. He had to witness this. This was his burden to bear and he wouldn’t leave Mara to do it alone. What did it say about him that he would have taken the carnage and struggle of the battlefield over this? Would have felt comfort in battle but not in the infirmary? 

He recognized what had happened as soon as Mara was pushed back. She had been Silenced. The feeling was familiar, the complete deprivation of magic in the air was immediate. He shouldn’t have breathed easier at that fact. 

Branson was at his side right away, “What do we do?” 

Mara had hit her head on the desk and was crumpled on the floor nearby, but they had to take care of Nathaniel first, “In her pocket, we need another draught.” The one Mara tried to use lay shattered on the ground. 

Cullen pressed Nathaniel back into the bed, it was much easier now since he’d used what strength he had on Silencing Mara. Branson brought the vial to his lips and he didn’t resist as he drank it down. Branson took over then so that Cullen could get to Mara. 

She was sitting up now, and he recognized the look in her eyes, wide with terror as she looked around her. Something was haunting her. He recognized the look, because he’d seen it so often in his own eyes, after waking from nightmares as he tried to convince himself they were not real. 

She’d backed away from him as he approached her blood running down her face from a gash on her temple. She was re-living something and Cullen did the only thing he could think to do, and that was to pick her up in his arms and get her out of there. As soon as he picked her up she fainted. 

They were lucky Bran and Rosie were there to take over, understanding the need to get her out of the room. Rosie put some bandages on Mara’s lap as he carried her out of the room, and took her to his office in some effort to distance her from what had happened. She was so light, the last few days probably not helping. They both hadn’t slept, and neither of them had really eaten, though Mia continued to bring food. 

He set her down atop his desk, she leaned against him, unconscious, he cupped her face in his hand, “Mara. Mara! Hey, wake up. I promise you can sleep after I clean you up.” She was bleeding profusely where her head had smacked the desk. 

She sat up dazed, green eyes still unseeing and pulling away from him like he was on fire. 

“Hey, hey….you’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” The words tumbled from his lips, sounding more unsure than comforting as he placed his hands on either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. 

Slowly, recognition washed over her face, “Cullen.” She looked relieved, eyes falling shut head bowed.

He nodded, “That’s right, you’re okay. You cut your head and I need to fix it.” He began dabbing at the gash with a cloth. It looked worse than it was, but the blood had run down her face and onto her tunic. She seemed to have noticed the blood, breathing speeding up. 

She looked panicked, body shaking uncontrollably, “I can’t….my magic…” Guilt gnawed away at him. How many times had he used that same ability on a mage without a thought? Without consideration for what it must feel like? 

Using his free hand, he ran his fingers across her cheek, unsure how else to comfort her, “It’s alright, it will come back. You just need to rest.”

She calmed as he worked gently dabbing the blood that had run down her face, watching him as he waited for the bleeding to slow before he bandaged her up. She’d shown few signs of exhaustion the last couple days, but now her eyes were tired and bloodshot, body slumped as she kept her eyes trained on his face. Everything about her seemed muted as she sat before him.

“What he did, you were Silenced. He cut off your connection to the Fade, but it will come back,” he said trying to calm her further to give her some explanation. It had triggered something, that much he knew. 

“I know,” she said quietly. 

“That wasn’t the first time you’ve been Silenced,” it wasn’t a question.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“It might help to talk about it,” he said calmly, trying to give her the chance to open up. 

She snorted, “That’s rich, coming from you.”  

He was far too tired to take the bait. That was a discussion for another time. She would not make this about him, “I just….you can tell me anything.”

Mara closed her eyes, “I was out hunting with my parents. We were ambushed by a group of Templars. I wasn’t being careful enough, they sensed my magic. One of them Silenced me and my father ordered me to get the clan. I ran and got them...but when I got back to the clearing. My parents were dead along with three of the five Templars.”

He swallowed, could feel a revelation quivering on the horizon. He didn’t say anything. What is there to say to something like that? 

“Did you think you were the only one here trying to atone? To make reparations?” she asked, eyes on the floor. 

He watched her carefully, trying to keep his voice even, “Mara?” 

“My clan tracked the other two Templars a few days later. I killed them.” She didn’t look at him as he pulled back from her. Surprise driving him away, but then anger. Could just one thing in his life not be tainted by Templars or mages or lyrium? 

Her eyes flicked to his face, “Don’t look at me like that.” What was it she saw in his eyes? He looked everywhere but at her. Out the window, at the floor, the papers he’d scattered as he set her atop his desk. 

He didn’t move any closer, “Like what?”

“Like your hands are cleaner than mine.” The words were a whisper, but it didn’t make them any less true. 

His anger ran cold, froze in his veins as guilt overtook it. “They’re not.” He couldn’t bear to meet her eyes as they bore into him. He clenched his fingers tightly into fists, fought the debilitating chill. He couldn’t afford to fall apart. If you’re as broken as he was, did it really matter if you fell apart? 

Maker knew everything he had done. The blood on his hands. He could see them flash behind his eyes. Harrowings, Rights of Annulment, could still hear the screams of his fellow Templars in Kinloch. It was the foul dust that haunted his dreams. He’d never be rid of it. 

The silence between them grew, Mara seemed lost in her shame and he in his guilt. He stepped forward and continued his work on her wound. The blood slowed. He placed the bandage on her head, noticing her wince as he pressed it into place. It felt like the most useful thing he’d done in days. 

“Why are you here?” Why had she agreed to help him here so readily? What had been the conflict he noticed in her eyes as she told him yes? He had so many questions. 

She was still trembling, “I was within my right according to every law of my people, to kill them. To take back the lives that were taken from me. You’re supposed to feel better after that right? I felt worse.” 

The admission weighed heavily between them and Cullen scrutinized her for a moment, as if he was trying to read her strategy. But there was no guile in her eyes.

“Do you think we can ever do enough good that it balances out the bad? I believe it for other people. But when I look at the trail of pain I’ve left in my wake, it seems impossible.”

Cullen looked at the woman in front of him who had shown more love and compassion in the last few days than he’d ever seen another person show perfect strangers. She was kind even to Nathaniel and Beatrice who had questioned her. And she took care of them all the same. And she didn’t believe that it was enough?  _ You are enough _ . The words she’d said to him. Could they be true?

“Cullen, what the hell are we doing?” Mara asked, eyes full of tears, “This is a disaster. All of it. And I can’t fix it. I can’t fix any of it.” He wondered who she was referring to, the Templars a few paces down the hall or the two of them. It didn’t matter.  

He didn’t know how to respond as the tears flowed freely down her face. So he wrapped his arm around her, fingers burying themselves in her hair as he pressed the uninjured side of her face to his chest in an embrace as she sobbed quietly. 

“I don’t know, about any of it. But maybe there’s some credit in trying,” he said into her hair. There were days he believed that. He wasn’t sure if today was one of them. 

Holding her felt more natural than it should have, how perfectly they fit together. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed human contact until she was in his arms. Missed caring for someone, missed the companionship of being with another person. It was the first time he missed things and not a person. Her name not even a whisper in his thoughts. Perhaps it was progress. He had meant to comfort Mara, but here she was, her presence comforting him.

After a few minutes she pressed her hand into his chest, pushing herself up and wiping her eyes, she looked up at him, eyes still glistening and starving for sleep. 

“Why don’t we move you to the couch?” he said pulling away from her. 

She nodded and slid off the desk, but immediately swayed into him, “I don’t think I can walk.”

He swept her feet out in a swift movement. She leaned into him as he carried her to the couch and he set her down. 

She looked up at him, “You should sit too. You look exhausted.” He was, he didn’t remember what it was not to be tired, and a dull ache of a headache lingered permanently in the back of his skull. He sat down next to her, spreading his arms against the length of the couch behind her and relishing in the feel of sinking into the cushions. 

She slumped into him, head on his chest, he looked down surprised, but her breaths were already deep and even. He curled his arm around her shoulder, holding her to him. They were going to get through this. They had to. 

He let his eyes fall shut, Branson and Rosalie would come get them if they were needed. He believed that. Just a few minutes of rest was all, then he’d get up and leave Mara to rest in here. 

It wasn’t long before the Fade claimed him too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to leave you on a bit of cliff hanger after the last chapter! I really wanted to make sure this chapter was perfect, so I hope you enjoyed it. As always, thank you for reading! I was delightfully overwhelmed at the response after the last chapter, so thank you so much. I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara finds little comfort in the admissions of the night before. Despite all that has happened, the work doesn't cease and there is no where to go but forward.

As she drifted towards consciousness she became painfully aware that her positioning was hurting her neck. She wondered how she’d been able to fall asleep like this. But she was warm, so very warm. She kept her eyes screwed shut, wishing she could just fall back asleep. 

And then whatever she was laying on moved. 

She immediately stiffened. A quiet snore filled the air. 

The events of the night before flooded her memory. There was little relief in her admission. It wasn’t something she had tried to keep hidden away, it was just locked away because it was too painful to bear re-examination. But she’d told him everything. Things she hadn’t said aloud in years. Every bit of her resolve to keep her past in her past shattered against the memories she had fought so hard to keep down. She had awaited his pronouncement of guilt, a feeling of consternation between them. But no such accusation fell from his lips. She’d been wounded at his reaction, his step back away from her. But he had an admission of his own to share, his affirmation that the his wrongs also piled high was all that had followed. There had been fear and betrayal in his eyes, but no such words left his tongue. 

She’d waited patiently through watching him sort through what she’d said. And then, she’d let herself unravel completely. She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or guilty for wishing for exculpation his words could provide. 

And he’d stayed. He didn’t walk away, he didn’t condemn her even when she’d given him every reason to. He had continued to comfort her despite the revelation. Something had shifted for them last night. She’d felt it. 

She could still feel the ghosts of his fingers against her cheek, telling her she was safe, that it would be okay. How he’d pulled her to him, enveloped her in his arms as she had fallen apart. She could still remember the steady beat of his heart - the reassuring beats reminding her that there was still life in her hands - within her reach. That perhaps death did not have to be all she knew. 

Another snore emanated from him and interrupted her thoughts. 

Mara knew she couldn’t stay here forever, that she couldn’t put off starting the day much longer. So pushed herself up so that she was sitting instead of laying on him. She turned her head and stretched her neck. She reached for her magic, a quick test to see if it was once again buzzing under her skin and she wanted to cry with relief. She’d felt like a piece of her was missing without it, off balance. The ache in her neck immediately ceased and she rubbed her eyes as she looked out the window. The sun was streaming into the room, throwing bright patches of sunlight on the floor, the day had begun without them. She winced, “Fenedhis.”

Had they slept all night? Were Branson and Rosalie with the Templars? She needed to check on them. She turned back to Cullen. His head was lolled to the side as he snored quietly. He looked unusually peaceful in his sleep and she couldn’t help but smile.

Her thoughts drifted back to the night before, the familiarity of his touch when he comforted her hadn’t startled her like it should have. It’d been nice to be held, to feel another person so close. His arm was still curled around her and the weight was comforting, the reminder that she wasn’t alone. 

She sighed, “Cullen?” His arm tightened around her as he stirred. She ignored the way his fingers gripped her in his sleep. “Cullen?” she said again, louder this time. 

His eyes fluttered open, adjusting slowly to the bright room. He groaned as he realized the time, “We fell asleep?”

“And slept for quite some time from what I can tell,” she said. 

He pulled the hand from around her up to his face, running his hand down his face. “Maker’s breath, I thought I’d just shut my eyes for a moment,” Cullen cursed. As if remembering the events of the night before, his eyes immediately softened and his arm moved as if to reach for her, but stopped atop his knee, “Are you alright?”

The words were spoken gently, like she was likely to break. She wished she hadn’t given him reason to think she was so weak. “I will be,” She looked away from him, she couldn’t meet his gaze. She hadn’t fallen apart like that in a long time, and never with witnesses. She silently vowed to never let it happen again. 

“Is there….” he paused and she changed the subject before he could finish. 

“We should get to the infirmary,” she suggested words spilling out in a rush. She hoped the quiet house and the fact Branson and Rosalie hadn’t woken them meant things had been fine while they slept. Cullen watched her for a moment like he might press her, but he seemed to think better of it. 

“Of course, but I’ll go. You should clean up first.” She glanced down at herself, the left side of her tunic was spotted with dried blood, the aftermath of her violent collision with the desk. 

She nodded and stood up, stretching aching muscles as she did. Her body protesting at having been in one position for so long.

Cullen sat in silence, watching her as she moved, no doubt trying to assure she really was alright. She’d barely been able to walk the night before. She swallowed the impulse to fill the room with chatter and walked out of his office as smoothly as she could. She padded quietly down the hallway listening intently for anything coming from the infirmary, so intently that when Rosalie walked out of her room, making her nearly jump out of her skin. 

“Rosie,” she gasped. Rosie jumped too at the sudden meeting. Rosie’s face was tired, mouth pressed in a thin line. 

“Sorry,” she whispered sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re fine. I was just on my way to my room to change, and wash up.”

“Are you alright? After….” Rosalie gestured toward her head.

“I’m fine,” Mara looked away from her. Rosie nodded, understanding her need to not talk about it further.

“I was...looking for you….” Rosalie said, confused, “I filled a bath in the washroom. I figured you’d want to wash up when you woke.”

Mara wanted to hug the woman and also sidestep the implication that she hadn’t slept in her room. A bath. It sounded divine, “Oh you have no idea how great that sounds.”

Rosie smiled knowingly, “Go, we can handle things for a while longer. You take some time.”

“How were things?” Mara asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer. 

Rosie tugged at the ends of her braided hair, “It was...this is...it’s terrible. I feel completely useless, they just lay there in pain and there’s nothing you can do.”

Mara nodded, understanding completely, “With any luck, the worst may be over.”

“Is Cullen awake?” Rosie asked, changing the subject. 

“Um...yes,” Mara replied, feeling blood rising to her cheeks. 

Rosie didn’t seem concerned about how she knew that fact, “I’ll go make some breakfast then.” She gave her a small smile as she walked quietly away. 

Mara continued into her room to grab her things. It was difficult to really see the room as hers, she’d only spent a handful of moments in it since she’d moved into it. She didn’t have a lot, never had. The room was simple, a bed, a dresser, and a chair on one side of the room next to a small trunk that held her daggers and armor. She hadn’t seen any reason to unpack it yet, but she began reluctantly reconsidering as the events of the night before returned. She’d always hated feeling helpless, vulnerable. She swallowed hard and turned to the mirror, her hair was sleep disheveled from leaning against Cullen, tendrils hanging out at all angles and what was left of her bun a knotted mess. There was also lopsided bandage covering most of her right temple. 

She peeled it carefully away to examine the damage. She was fairly positive her magic had healed the wound as it had returned while she slept, but she wasn’t sure. She was relieved to see all that remained was a light pink mark that would probably fade in a few days. She took her brush and began slowly untangling the mess that was her hair. 

As she worked her eyes alighted on the ironbark lidded box she’d set on the dresser. The sole decorative item she had in the room. 

She still remembered like it was yesterday, the sleepless nights after her parent’s deaths, carving the oak staffs they would bury them with, their guides to the afterlife. The smell of the cedar branches she had picked. It was the job of the closest kin to prepare these things. And as they planted the trees over her parent’s bodies, laying them side by side. Keeper Deshanna had left her alone after the prayers had been said. She stared at the swollen ground, that contained the only two people in the world she’d ever loved. They’d marked this place on their maps, so she could find it again if she ever wished. But for the first time, she did not regret leaving a place. There was nothing here she wanted to return to. Their bodies were the empty husks of their souls, the two beings in the ground in front of her were her parents no more. Her parents were far beyond her, out of reach, perhaps forever. She’d never felt more alone. 

She opened the box to grasp the oak shards. The scraps of the staffs she’d carved by firelight. She ran her fingers over them, remembering placing the staffs in each of her parents arms as they laid them to rest. She closed the box and quietly left the room, clean clothes in hand and walked quickly to the washroom as if the momentary reprieve wouldn’t last. 

She silenced a shriek as she wrenched her leg out of the bath water. It wasn’t even remotely warm. It’d been so long since someone else had set a bath for her that she took for granted her abilities to instantly warm the water. She carefully summoned her magic and warmed the water, sinking into it almost immediately. She wanted to cry with relief, every sore muscle and tired joint melted into the warm water. Leaving her feeling languid and lighter than she had in days, but she couldn’t linger. She couldn’t put off entering the infirmary forever, but a night’s rest and feeling clean had done wonders for her courage this morning. 

She left the bath and got dressed, wishing for nothing more than to stay in that tub with water up to her neck and lay there forever, feel the weightlessness the water granted. Maybe then all of her troubles might float away too. She pulled her short hair back putting it in the simple bun she favored while working and then headed back to the infirmary. 

_ Breathe,  _ she reminded herself,  _ last night won’t happen again.  _ She’d resolved that much. She wouldn’t lose her head again, even if she was Silenced she wouldn’t break down. She steeled herself and walked into the room. 

She immediately assessed everything in the infirmary as she entered, eyes roaming over every inch. Rosalie was absent from the infirmary, making good on her promise to make breakfast probably. Cullen was talking with Branson in hushed tones near her desk at the far side of the room. Branson looked more serious than she’d ever seen him as he spoke with his brother. The Templars didn’t move, the sound of steady breaths indicated they slept soundly. Even Gregory appeared to be sleeping. She watched Nathaniel’s bed carefully as she approached, but he didn’t move. 

Branson looked a little tired as she approached, but otherwise fine, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, catching Cullen staring at her temple. 

He rubbed his neck when she made eye contact, “It...uh...looks good.”

“I had a good nurse last night,” she smiled, she still hadn’t thanked him for everything he’d done. 

He looked away awkwardly, “And you’re a healer.” The automatic nature of his reply was met with silence. The three of them stood there, the quiet of the room growing louder with each passing moment. 

“So….things seemed to have been fine through the night,” Mara prompted as Branson looked between the two of them, the awkward tension not going unnoticed.

“Yes, Barris and Beatrice were awake for a while, but they’re sleeping now and we didn’t have to clean up anything but your blood,” Branson said, an attempt at a joke. 

“Well, if they’re not too nauseated, perhaps we should try food today. Some broth or something to begin with and slowly work up to solid food?” she suggested. 

Cullen nodded, “A good plan I think. I’ll go assist Rosalie.” He turned and walked away, leaving her alone with Branson. 

She immediately set to work, putting her papers on her desk back into order. Branson followed her to her desk, arms crossed across his broad chest. “So, how’d you sleep?”

She stiffened, turning to look at him. He had a smirk on his face, and she contemplated her response carefully, “Fine, thank you.” 

He cocked an eyebrow, his whisper much louder now, “Yeah, how fine?” 

“Shhh,” she reminded and shrugged in response, unwilling to give him any more ammunition. 

“Geez, you’re no fun. At least Cullen blushed,” Branson sighed. 

“It takes a lot more than that to get me blushing.”

Branson smiled weakly, “Yeah? Well it’s not every day I walk in on my brother cuddling with a woman.”

“With all of this,” she gestured around the room, keeping her voice purposefully low, “you find something to joke about?”

Branson swallowed hard and shrugged, “Rather focus on that than this.”

She set her papers down, waiting for him to continue. “My brother did this on his own,” he pointed to the bedridden Templars, “How? I know he’s probably the most stubborn person in all of Thedas, but this...this is beyond stubbornness.”

Mara hadn’t had time to consider anything beyond the experiences of the last few days, consider how Cullen had managed this alone, without anyone to care for him. But of course Branson and Rosalie’s first response would be to see their brother in the suffering here. 

She nodded, “It’s a little hard to swallow, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But this is probably nothing for you. Rosie said you were at Adamant and the Arbor Wilds. Probably saw worse than this there, right?”

Had she? It didn’t feel that way. “I don’t know that you can really compare the two.”

Branson watched her closely, “I look around here and I’m reminded of the Blight. It’s hard not to see the similarities.”

“I wasn’t anywhere near the Blight, I’ve only heard stories,” Mara said. Her clan had been in the Free Marches, the Blight just an unpleasant rumor for most. Her people had largely ignored the stories, dismissing rather than acknowledging it. She hadn’t been sure herself until she’d seen the undeniable evidence of it in Ferelden. 

“It was bad. Sort of like this. Nothing you can do but wait.” Branson looked away from her, his eyes were sad. 

“I’m sorry,” unsure what else to say. 

“It’s alright. Is there something I can do? Put me to work Head Healer.” He bowed slightly, a small smile back on his face. Branson relied on humor to deal with the difficult things in life and she understood that. Coping is never easy, she just wished she could find any humor in what she’d done. 

She opened her herb cupboard, nearly full a few days ago but now mostly empty. “We need more sleeping draughts. Want to help me make some?”

“I’d love to,” Branson replied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so consistently humbled and encouraged by the response to this story. So thank you, thank you, thank you for reading. I wanted to get this chapter out much sooner than now, but it wasn't really cooperating and went through five or so rewrites. I love your comments, so tell me what you think?  
> Thanks for being here. :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some teasing of Cullen by his siblings, some healing, and a chess game.

Cullen was completely lost in his thoughts as he helped Rosalie in the kitchen. He was still trying to wrap his head around what had happened the night before, what Mara had shared with him. He oscillated between feeling happy she felt that she could share something so personal and wishing she hadn’t told him at all. 

And Maker’s breath, they’d slept together. It just got more complicated by the minute around here. It’d been a complete and utter accident, he’d felt this need to comfort her, to help her after what had happened but he’d never intended this. And she’d said nothing. They’d woken up and just gone about their business like it hadn’t happened. But did he even really want to talk about it? 

He’d almost said something this morning, but stopped. Perhaps the events didn’t bear repeating, reminiscence. They’d both admitted their darkness, and perhaps last night it had a place, but now in the bright sunlight of morning it didn’t. 

It would have been just fine if Branson hadn’t decided to pester him about it. Branson had apparently tried to come and check on them when they hadn’t returned to the infirmary, and when he found them together on the couch had left them there. 

Branson wouldn’t drop it, kept saying he had years of teasing to make up for. Cullen wished that the snarl and look he usually gave to recruits would put his brother off, but he knew it wouldn’t work. Despite his annoyance at his brother’s antics, something  _ had _ shifted last night for him and Mara. The uneasy alliance they had forged in the last few weeks had changed. They were confidants now. Friends. An unspoken bond had formed in the exhaustion fueled haze of the past few days. They could communicate with a look and a few words, at least when it came to taking care of the Templars. Despite that, he found it hard to read her this morning. He was probably overthinking the whole thing. 

His sister’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, “Cullen?”

His head snapped up to meet her gaze, “Yes?”

She shook her head, “You’re distracted this morning. You can probably stop mixing the eggs, you’ve got them nearly whipped to a souffle.”

He walked around the table in the middle of the kitchen, dodging low hanging pots and pans as he met her at the stove, “Sorry. It’s been a long few days.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t have something to do with the person you spent the night with?” Rosalie raised her eyebrows. 

He ran a hand down his face, “Not you too. What? Did you both sneak into my office and watch us?”

Rosalie looked confused, “No, I went looking for Mara, but her bed had obviously not been slept in and she knew you were awake.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Cullen sighed. 

Rosie didn’t look convinced. 

“Really. I patched her up and brought her over to the couch in my office and we both fell asleep,” Cullen explained, “That’s all. Ask Branson, he came to check on us and found us asleep.”

Rosie shot him a look of unbelief. 

“You’ve lived with Branson too long if you really thought more happened than that,” Cullen crossed his arms. 

“I believe you,” Rosie said teasingly, “but I might have more reason to believe you if you ever talked about your...relationships.”

“Because it’s not anyone’s business,” Cullen grumbled. 

“Might be my business, she’s my friend too you know,” Rosie chided. 

Cullen rolled his eyes, “There’s nothing going on.” But his mind began spinning, did Mara think more was going on? He frowned and hoped that she hadn’t felt more was going on than there was. It was all an accident. 

They took their time finishing making breakfast, Cullen could see the reluctance in Rosalie’s eyes. She would much rather be in the kitchen than the infirmary, but eventually they did have to return. She’d never say, but the time spent here had taken their toll. She was good at hiding it though, a smile on her face and as he followed her bobbing head into the room, silently taking stock as he entered. Both Barris and Gregory were awake, Barris seemed to be trying to read while Gregory just watched them with weary eyes as they entered, and Nathaniel was stirring, but not properly awake.  

Branson and Mara stood near her desk, dried herbs spread between them as they counted and organized, no doubt organizing things to replenish the draughts they’d used over the past few days. Branson turned as they entered and his tired eyes lit up. 

“Mmmm. Food, thank the Maker,” Branson immediately dropped the herbs he was working on and took the tray from Rosalie. 

Mara moved more slowly, finishing her work and cleaning up the herbs Branson had scattered in his haste to get to the food. Cullen set his tray down and approached her, “Would you like some help with those?”

“I’ve got it,” she said as she finished bundling a small collection of herbs and tallying something on a sheet of paper. He turned back to his siblings, they’d pulled a table into the room after the first day, needing a place to put things that was larger than Mara’s desk. Branson was already digging into a piece of toast and was eyeing the stack of eggs on the tray hungrily. 

Mara picked up a bowl of broth, “I should probably take care of Gregory and Barris first.” He stopped her, placing his hands on the bowl. 

“You need to eat something first,” he admonished, “then you can help.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed as he took the bowl from her hands, “I can wait.”

Rosie caught on, snatching another bowl from the tray, “And I’ll take care of Barris!” Mara sighed exasperatedly. 

“Foiled by the Rutherford siblings,” Branson smiled, “Come on, eat then you can relieve one of them.” 

She pulled up a chair and sank into it dejectedly all the while throwing  annoyed glances like daggers his way. Cullen couldn’t help but smile, it was a little comical. The infirmary was still quite dark, windows still covered, but the bright sunlight fought its way in, dipping under the fabric and casting long shadows on the floor.  

“How are you feeling?” Cullen asked Gregory as he sat down next to his bed. 

Despite the sleep he’d gotten, Gregory still looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot. His light hair was matted from laying down so long and the frequent bouts of sweating. His voice was quiet when he spoke, “Better, I think.”

“Good, we’d like to try to get you eating a little today, it will help you feel better,” Cullen said gently. 

Gregory’s face fell, concern evident, “I don’t want to send it all back up.” Gregory had been hit hardest by the nausea, he’d kept very little food down the last few days. Mara had been especially concerned about dehydration, but Gregory had pulled through so far. 

As if he’d called for her, Mara appeared near him, “You haven’t vomited since yesterday. That’s encouraging. We’ll just try a small amount of broth and see how it goes. Alright?”

Gregory nodded and allowed Cullen to bring the broth to his lips, hands too shaky to do it himself. Cullen tried not to be too bothered by her jumping in. All of the other Templars, even Barris on occasion, watched Mara with careful eyes. But Gregory trusted her implicitly, had since the first night she’d sat with him while he violently convulsed. Cullen turned over his shoulder, throwing a glare of his own at Mara, “You’re supposed to be eating.”

She rolled her eyes, maliciously bit into her toast and held it high above her head as she slid away. He chuckled a little and Gregory smiled too as he laid back into the pillows. 

It didn’t take long before Nathaniel began stirring in earnest. Cullen was nearest his bed, but he was still taking care of Gregory. He cast a glance to Mara, her mouth was a thin line of determination. He caught her eye, the silent question between them. She shook her head, and moved towards his bed. He’d seen the look before, the same look recruits had when they had been defeated by an opponent during a sparring match, but still got back up. No matter what Mara said last night or this morning, she was scared. 

She stepped toward Nathaniel slowly, footfalls making more noise than necessary. “Nathaniel?” she asked as she approached. Her hands were open, to her sides trying to show she was not a threat. 

Through bleary eyes he watched her, “Mara.”

She smiled warmly, and perhaps there was a small exhale of relief as she approached his bed, “How are we feeling today?” 

He rubbed his head, looking rather miserable, “My head is pounding.”

She moved a little closer, reaching for his hand, “May I?”

He gave her his hand without question. Cullen could feel the prickle of magic entering the room as she massaged the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, a pressure point she’d told him. If she poured a little magic in, it helped. Dalish magic, old magic. He’d never seen anyone able to do so much for these pains, they were lucky to have Mara here. 

He watched the whole interaction closely, watching for any sign that Nathaniel might hurt Mara again, but Cullen suspected the Templar had no memory of what happened. He met Branson’s gaze across the room, he knew that his brother could read his thoughts. Branson could tell he was going on defense, poised to spring, just in case. He mouthed silently, “Relax.” And if he was admitting anything, Mara didn’t need his help. She was far stronger than he.  

Mara was warm and kind despite all that had happened. Cullen found himself frustrated, wishing she might say something to Nathaniel, show him what happened, but she didn’t say a word. He kept glancing at the angry red mark on her temple. Surely he could not be the only one seeing it, seeing the damage that had been caused.  

“Are you hungry?” she asked. 

Nathaniel looked grateful, “Maker yes. Thank you.”

***

Improvement was slow over the next few days. While Mara had been right that they were mostly out of the woods, as far as the physical symptoms of withdrawal were concerned, the mental ones lingered. The nightmares began. He and Mara took turns sleeping on a bedroll near Mara’s desk in the infirmary so that they were close when the terrors manifested themselves. 

At last, there was something Cullen felt he could actually be helpful with. He’d had more than his share of nightmares since Kinloch, very few people were aware of them but now, there was no reason to hide it. In fact, he found that the Templars took comfort in his experiences, found that he could help bring them back to reality when they woke up screaming far better than Mara could. There was some comfort in that. 

The next phase was much closer to Cullen’s expectations than the first had been. He’d been woefully unprepared for what they’d faced as the Templars weathered the initial withdrawal symptoms despite having experienced withdrawal himself. He’d thought that would be the easy part and the talking about it would be the hard part. Now, he found it was a relief to talk and not carry sick,  try to bring down fevers and worry over possible dehydration. 

As the group as a whole became more coherent, conversations naturally began. The group compared aches and pains, asked questions, and after Cullen had been pulled in, listening and occasionally sharing for the better part of an hour, Mara appeared with a chair in either hand. Setting one down for him and placing the other down for herself. She answered questions and jumped in when her healing knowledge might be useful, but otherwise she quietly absorbed what was said. He knew he couldn’t hold back when she was there after her admonition the day the Templars had arrived. Cullen had feared that talking about his experiences might make the draw of lyrium even stronger, but the impromptu meetings were having the opposite effect, and when Mara suggested they make it a daily occurrence, he readily agreed. 

The discussions seemed to have positive effects on everyone, and it became apparent that keeping everyone in the infirmary was no longer a necessity. In fact, the close quarters were hindering the recovery process as one nightmare in such woke everyone up. So they moved them out slowly, starting with Barris and Nathaniel who regained their strength first. Beatrice and Gregory lagged behind them, still struggling to keep food down with any amount of normality.  

Gregory was the last and most reluctant to move out of the infirmary. After years of living in barracks, it was a luxury for them to have their own rooms. But Gregory seemed afraid of being left on his own. Mara wouldn’t push it and Cullen been frustrated by that. Gregory only agreed to the move after a few nightmare free nights and the promise of being in the room right next to Cullen’s.

As they left Gregory’s room he was reminded of his parents tucking him and his siblings into bed each night. But of course, the children had all shared the loft, they had nothing so grand as this house. The large rooms, wide halls, multiple staircases far beyond the thoughts of his younger self, falling asleep with eyes on the wooden roof of their simple farm house.  

Mara followed him into his office and collapsed onto the couch with a yawn, “And now, I think the worst is behind us.” Her words were morphed as she spoke, syllables stretched as she yawned. 

He leaned against his desk, looking at her. The candles in the room flickered around them, casting shadows that bent and moved along the walls and the floor. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes,  “Until the next group anyways.”

“Hey,” she glowered, but then immediately laughed, “Let’s celebrate the victories where we can. Take them before thinking too far ahead.” Her presence was calming amidst the chaos of their days, and tonight was no different. 

“Speaking of celebrations,” he remembered a bottle of Tevinter wine he’d hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk. A parting gift from Dorian he wasn’t sure he’d have an occasion to ever use, but he felt they both deserve it after the week they’ve had. He pulled it out without flourish and held it up. “Shall we?” 

“You had alcohol on the premises? You’ve been holding out on me,” Mara accused with a smile. 

He chuckled, “I’m afraid I’m not much of a wine connoisseur, but I’m sure it’s very fine.”

“Me either.” She shrugs. 

“Dorian would say that this is wasted on us,” he chuckled as he poured them each a glass. Josie would tsk at his use of glasses, not proper decorum.  

“Dorian Pavus?” she asked as she accepted his offering of the glass as he joined her on the couch. She was curled up cat-like on one side, leg tucked underneath her. 

“Yes,” he nodded, “Also gifted me a rather fancy chess set. Do you play?” 

She sipped her wine, “Is that the one with a checkered board and the funny shaped pieces?”

“I’ll take that as a no…” Cullen laughed, taking a drink from his glass. The wine didn’t taste much different than other wines he’d had, Dorian would be incredibly disappointed if he knew. 

“I’m afraid so,” she said. 

He considered dropping the subject completely, but found himself wishing for the relaxation he often found through playing. He raised an eyebrow, “Would you like to learn?”

She eyed him suspiciously, “That depends. How much teasing am I likely to endure when I’m terrible at it?”

“No teasing. I promise.” 

“I’ll try not to be too terrible at it.” 

He set the board between them on the couch and explained to her amused attention what each piece was and how it worked. She was surprisingly good at it, if not a little unorthodox in her strategy. There were more than a few times when she had him stumped for a moment with her moves. He still won, but he wondered if that would hold. 

They were two games in when he decided to ask about the markings on her arm, “May I ask you a personal question?”

“Am I going to need more wine for this?” she responded. 

“I hope not,” he said, unsure how to articulate his question. Nervousness crept through his body, and he rubbed his neck, “Most Dalish elves have markings on their faces, you have some markings on your arm, are they the same thing?”

She looked impressed with his question, “Vallaslin. And yes. Most Dalish get the markings on their faces, but it’s not….required.” 

“They mean things, tribute to your gods?” he prompted. He knew that much at least, but he was curious about the markings on her arm. 

“Yes,” she slid her left tunic sleeve up and offered her arm to him. He reached out slowly, her eyes didn’t leave his face as he took her arm and examined it. On the inside of her forearm were beautiful markings of deep blue, the twisted and curled into each other in an intricate design. “I didn’t want to pick just one god to honor. I told my keeper it was because I wanted to honor them all. But it was really because I wasn’t sure if I believed in them at all.”

“It...um...it’s very nice,” he said quietly, letting go of her arm. Her gaze skittered away from his. He wanted to say that the markings were beautiful and that they way they intersected her skin was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. But the words wouldn’t quite come.

She pulled away, looking unseeingly at the chess board. He turned over his words in his mind, wondering what she had meant about believing in them at all, curiousity overtaking caution.   

“What do you believe now?” his voice quiet, honest curiosity permeating his voice and hoping it wasn’t too personal to have asked. She moved her bishop and looked back up to him.

“I definitely haven’t had enough wine to answer that question,” she held up her glass and he wondered if he said the wrong thing, but poured her some more. He stared at the board as if he didn’t have the next several moves planned out in his head. 

“I’m not living with my clan, so what do you think?” she said finally after taking a drink. 

He smiled, as if there was an easy answer for that. There were a million reasons she could be here, just like there hadn’t been one reason he was. “I’m never sure what to think with you.” It was honest and she ran a hand through her hair and looked away from him. 

“I’m not really Dalish anymore. I respect their laws and culture, I just no longer want to be a part of it. My parents would be tremendously disappointed in me,” she sighed. 

He considered her response for a moment, “You’ll never go back?”

“I don’t know that I’d be welcome. Deshanna was mad when I joined the Inquisition, though she’d never say it. I write her each time I move. So she knows where I am. She’ll write back, general things. But she doesn’t ask me to return.” 

He took her bishop with his knight, placing it near his ever growing pile of white pieces. “I’m sorry.”

“I hope you’re not apologizing for beating me?” she smirked.

“I’m not sorry about that,” he said quietly. “You don’t regret it though?”

She looked at him, and maybe it was just the wine making him feel a little light headed, but she smiled at him chin resting on her fist, “No. It all brought me here.”

Unsure what to say he looked back down at the chessboard between them, “It’s your move.”

They stayed like that for a long while, talking occasionally, but often they stayed in companionable silence until it was far too late. When he’d beat her for the third time in a row she threw her king at him lightheartedly and bid him goodnight. He was a little sorry to see her go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look a chapter update that isn't an entire week after the first one! This was sort of another set up chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading! :D   
> Let me know what you think in the comments?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara struggles to find her place as things at the clinic calm down, and it does not go unnoticed by Mia. Mara tries to get Cullen to see he doesn't need to carry his guilt like he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who might not be familiar with The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, I have written a short summary in the end notes and also Dalish-ized it. Because I'm a total English nerd like that. The story of the albatross Mara references is not my own, it's from this poem.  
> [Also now there is art over on tumblr.](http://slothquisitor.tumblr.com/post/138954687036/so-i-commissioned-the-incredibly)

She awoke to screaming. It should have been troubling, but now it was something that happened each night. Cullen’s room was upstairs and since he was nearest, though she’d offered her help he’d taken it upon himself to help calm the victim of the nightmares. When she awoke she always questioned whether she should go to assist. But if she was admitting anything, Cullen was far better at this than she was. 

He seemed to know exactly what to say to calm them down and to pull them back to reality in the exact same way he had pulled her back after she’d been Silenced. She stumbled over her words and said the wrong things. She was no good with this type of healing. 

For all of his uncertainty when the initial withdrawal symptoms hit, he was thriving now. He’d defaulted to her instructions before, but now he was taking a more active voice leading the group along. And they followed him, trusting him implicitly. Their trust went far beyond what they might have placed in someone who was their commanding officer, they saw his care for them and they respected him. She could see why he’d been so successful as Commander of the Inquisition, he led quietly, carefully, and he cared a lot more than he’d ever say. But you could feel it. 

She watched him nearly as closely as she watched the rest of the Templars when they met, talking about withdrawal, how things were going, and their struggles. She found it all fascinating, but more than that, Cullen was talking about his experiences without the air of recitation that had been there when he’d initially told her about his lyrium withdrawal. There was still a lot he didn’t say, but what he did say seemed to be helping both him and the Templars. 

She wondered how central to success her presence really was at this point. Sure she relieved headaches, and made teas that helped with the worst of the symptoms. But mostly she worked in her herb garden and tried to make a sleeping draught that might grant one a dreamless sleep. She was beginning to feel the familiar restlessness that had accompanied her adult life. The feeling that it was time to move on.  

For all of her protestations about moving when she’d been younger, she didn’t mind it so much now. Working for the Inquisition had made it easier. She was assigned a new place every so often, a change of scene, a fresh start. But she could feel that she had roots slowly growing here. And the realization made her want to run. 

Her thoughts lulled her back to sleep and when she awoke again, the sun was shining cheerily. So she pulled herself out of bed, changing her clothing with plans to go see if there was help needed in making breakfast. 

The shortest rout to the kitchen was through the infirmary. When she walked into the infirmary, she expected to find it empty, but Cullen was there. He was slumped over with his back to her, clutching the wooden rail at end of one of the beds. Even at this distance she could see his knuckles were white. He was obviously holding it for support.  

Mara was too good of a healer to not to see the signs. He did his best to hide the symptoms that still dogged him. She’d notice that he rubbed his neck more when his head was aching, that he reached for a sword that no longer hung on his hip when his hands shook, and that sometimes he would lean against things while the dizziness and nausea passed. 

Cullen bore the pain like he bore his guilt, like an albatross around his neck. There’s a lot to learn of people when you watch them weather a crisis. And she knew more about Cullen now than most people could boast. She could see that his first reaction was to feel guilt, he piled it on himself like armor, done it so long that he forgot to feel anything else. He looked unforgivably guilty - his tawny eyes were filled to the brim with it. He never asked for help because he never felt like he deserved the reprieve. That somehow putting up with the pain was his punishment for all the crimes he was paying penance for. She knew that it shouldn’t be that way, that it didn’t need to be that way, but it was.  

“Everything alright?” she asked, announcing her presence.

She could see the muscles in his back tighten through his tunic as he stiffened, “I’m fine.” But he didn’t move from the spot.

“Cullen,” she entreated, “Why don’t you go sit for a moment and let me help?”

His eyes met hers and she could see the dark shadows of his past that moved in the amber depths, guilt swallowing everything else. But she would not be easily deterred. 

“I’m fine, no reason to trouble you.”

So that was how this was going to be. “Sit, and that’s an order Commander.”

He glowered at her, but sat on the bed. He moved carefully, like too much movement might make the headache worse. She sighed, “You can just ask you know. You know I can help.”

“I know,” his words were low, she could sense his shame.   

She pursed her lips, but moved closer to him, “Give me your hand.”

He reluctantly held out his hand and she encircled it with her own, he inhaled sharply, “Your hands are always so cold.”

She began working the pressure points she knew so well, kneading and slowly infusing them with magic. She searched with her magic where the spot of tension was strongest, sending healing towards the point. 

“My magic is ice based, always been that way, better for healing anyways,” she explained. 

He sighed in relief as she worked, his head bowed and eyes falling shut, “Thank you.”

“The physical pain I can help with, the albatross around your neck, not so much,” she said as she continued to massage his hand. It felt strangely more intimate with him than anyone else. 

His eyes opened, they were still swimming in guilt, but also confused, “Albatross?”

“My people tell a story of a mariner who shoots an albatross that he’s convinced himself is a bad omen. Killing the albatross rouses demons from the Fade and so he wears it around his neck as penance for his crime. You carry your guilt around your neck too. Wear it because you believe you must pay penance for the things you’ve done.”

“I suppose I do,” he looked away, pulled his hand from her grasp. She let it go without protest, she’d done all she could do. Because this was all she could do, would ever be able to do. Only he could forgive himself. 

“Do you remember what you said in your office after I was Silenced?”

“I said a lot of things that night.” She bit back a sarcastic remark. 

“You said that there was some credit in trying. But you don’t believe that, do you? At least not for yourself.”

His gaze flicked back to hers, the bright sunlight that streamed in through the windows reflecting in his eyes was not enough to chase the shadows away, “I don’t know.”

She nodded placing her hand lightly on his shoulder, “You’ve got a dead bird around your neck, Cullen. And you’re the only one who thinks it needs to be there.”

“You don’t know all that I’ve done,” he whispered. 

“I don’t need to,” she said quietly, and perhaps she saw the slightest glimmer of hope in his eyes. It’d be fitting wouldn’t it, if she gave him hope the way he gave her hope. 

“Mara-” he began

She held up a hand, “Don’t tell me to prove a point. Tell me only if you truly want to tell me. I’m always here.”

He nodded and stood, “Thank you, again.” She smiled in reply and he left the infirmary without another word. And she wondered if she’d lied.

She stood alone in the infirmary, trying to remind herself why she was here in the first place. She didn’t take long before she continued into the kitchen to assist with breakfast, but Mia, Branson and Rosalie were already deep into it when she got to there. Their help was appreciated by everyone, but Mara couldn’t help but feel completely useless. They greeted her warmly, and she did her best to not be in the way. 

She ate quickly, and didn’t talk to anyone much before tacitly excusing herself and leaving the tumult of the dining room to retreat to the quiet of her garden. Her garden was where she felt most calm. She wondered if she’d ever get used to living in a place with walls and a roof, but out here, she felt more at ease. 

She toiled in the beds most mornings, pulling weeds, taking care of the plants. She loved the feel of the sun on her skin, the quiet hiss of the plants at they swayed in the breeze. She allowed herself to to get lost in her thoughts out here. She wasn’t out there long before her thoughts were accompanied by the sounds of practice swords clanging and shields meeting. As the Templars began feeling better, they became restless and Cullen, easily falling back on his time as Commander decided to take them out to do training exercises in the yard. Mara didn’t want to say anything, but she wondered if he was doing it more for himself or for them. She glanced over at them every so often, but mostly tried to focus on her own work. The noise they made was loud enough she did not hear the quiet footsteps of Mia approaching until she announced herself by clearing her throat. 

“I thought you might be out here,” Mia smiled. Mia often made her nervous despite all of her kindness. Mia was shrewd, never missing anything even if she had enough sense not to bring it up. Mara often felt ill at ease with her, as if she could read her thoughts. Mia came to the estate least often though, her own children and farm to attend to. She often kept Henry with her in order to allow Branson and Rosalie to be of more help. But her presence wasn’t often far, Branson and Rosalie often came bearing food she had made. Mara wanted to like her but they’d scarcely had more time than for passing words. 

“I usually am these days. Did you need something?” Mara asked. 

Mia looked around at the slowly flourishing herb garden, “I thought I might lend a hand, is that alright?”

“I’d like that,” but Mara wondered if Mia had intentions beyond just helping her.

“You’ve done a lovely job out here,” Mia commented as she knelt a few paces away, getting to work immediately. 

Mara laughed, “They seem to have survived despite the neglect.” During the seemingly endless days of the infirmary, she hadn’t had a spare moment to think about the newly planted garden. But the plants had rallied, and despite looking rather starved for water, had been otherwise fine. 

“You’ve done well here.”

“They’re just plants,” Mara said as she poured water on the soil. 

Mia stopped working to face her, “I wasn’t just talking about the plants.” 

Mara was struck with the intensity of her gaze, her blue eyes not missing the surprise on her face. 

“What do you mean?”

“Look around, so much has been accomplished here. You’re part of that,” Mia smiled at her kindly. 

“Am I?” she frowned. What was she doing here ultimately? She’d come here to make amends, to try and blot out a portion of her past.  

Mia scrutinized her closely and she couldn’t meet her gaze, “You’re thinking of leaving.” It wasn’t a question. 

Mara sighed. There it was. She’d been silly to think Mia wouldn’t see it when she saw everything else so clearly. “I help make food and tea, work in my garden and chase minor aches away. The pain runs so deep here, I can’t fix it.”

“Your mistake is that you believe if you’re not healing, you’re not helping.”

“I’m a healer, it’s why I’m here.”

“But it’s not all you’re good for,” Mia’s words were gentle.

“Isn’t it?”

“Did you know that my brother didn’t tell us when he was transferred from Kinloch? That I spent the better part of two years trying to find out where my brother was and if he was alive?”

“No…” she chanced a glance back at Mia, only to see pain in her eyes. 

“He wasn’t exactly the best at writing us even when I tracked him down. Something happened that he won’t talk about.”

Mara tried to reconcile the family she’d spent time around with the story Mia was telling her. “Weren’t you angry he didn’t write?” she asked. 

“Maker yes, for a long time that’s all I was. I think Branson was the only one who rivaled me on that score, but we had almost ten years to come to terms with it. And then my brother came home, but he was so closed off and broken I was honestly afraid when I saw him. But he had this idea to come here and build this sanctuary,” she gestures around her, “We poured everything into helping him, supporting him because I saw it, that same spark that used to be in him when he talked about joining the order when we were kids. And you come along and suddenly he’s my brother again.”

Mara shook her head, “I didn’t-”

Mia interrupted her, “Look, I’m not Branson and Rosalie and I’m not saying there’s more going on between you two than friendship. But all of this has been good for him. I don’t know if this place would survive without you.”

Mara didn’t believe that for a second. Cullen was more than capable and she shook her head, “You’re wrong, you don’t give Cullen enough credit.”

“Oh I give him just enough credit. Believe me. Your compassion is needed here. You know the Templars, you anticipate their needs, you care about them. And they trust you, even Nathaniel and Beatrice. I’m sure it’s hard, to be the only mage and only elf around here, but they need you.”

Mara picked at her fingernails rather than looking at Mia, “You’re very nice.”

Mia placed her hand on her forearm, “No need to make any decisions right now. Just think about what I said.”

Mara nodded, “Enough about me, how are you?” 

Mia laughed, “Oh fine. The harvest is nearing, so the farm is requiring more work, that’s why I haven’t been around as often as Bran and Rosie.”

“Will you need help with the harvest?” Mara asked, she’d never done much more than simple farming with her clan but she might be able to help. 

“Are you offering?” Mia asked with surprise. 

“If you need it, let me know,” Mara smiled. Mia looked touched. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

They worked like that for a while, Mia telling stories about her children and Mara offering stories of her own. She enjoyed the company more than she could say. It wasn’t long before they finished tending to the plants Mia’s help effectively cutting the work in half. 

“Should we go over and see what has Bran and Rosie so enthralled?” Mia said, gesturing at the makeshift training yard Cullen had erected the last few days. It wasn’t much, just a patch of field off the side of the stable which housed the training dummies and practice weapons. It would never be a training ground for much more than their small group, but it didn’t need to be. 

The exercises had dissolved into sparring matches, mostly the Templars facing off against Cullen. Branson and Rosalie stood a good distance away from the sparring area with the other Templars and they seemed to be watching the proceedings with great entertainment. 

“Glad you came to join us!” Rosie said happily, moving back to expand the group to accommodate her and Mia.  

“Us too,” Mia smiled, answering for the both of them. 

Cullen and Barris were facing off in the ring, circling around each other and meeting blow for blow. She didn’t miss the way Rosie was watching Barris, but she supposed she wasn’t one to judge as she had a hard time tearing her eyes away from Cullen, his sweat drenched tunic sticking to the broad planes of his chest. 

Barris kept shuffling forward, attempting to attack on Cullen’s unprotected side, but Cullen kept blocking him with practiced expertise. Mara could tell he was letting Barris wear himself down on the attack, while he stayed on defense. She saw it coming before Barris did, Cullen feigned to his left leaving his entire right side unprotected. Barris poised for attack but Cullen shifted back right lightning fast, his shield ramming into Barris and knocking him off his feet. Barris’s sword dropped uselessly to the ground beside him. 

“I yield,” Barris sighed, obviously tired. 

Rosie turned to her a bit of pride in her face, “No one’s been able to best Cullen.”

“Well to be fair, he is sparring with Templars who just a week and a half ago where bedridden,” Mara pointed out just loud enough for Cullen to hear, crossing her arms against her chest. 

Nathaniel laughed boisterously, “That sounds like a challenge if I ever heard one.”

Cullen turned to face her, eyebrow cocked, “Is it a challenge?”

“I’d hate to hurt your ego,” she smirked. 

His eyes narrowed at the challenge, “That implies you would win.”

“Only one way to find out.”

“No magic,” he said as she approached the sparse collection of practice weapons leaning on a rack near the makeshift ring. She picked up a pair of daggers and turned back to face him. She could see the surprise on his face, he’d assumed she’d pick the staff, most mages would have. But then again, she wasn’t most mages.  

“Won’t need it,” she said as she readied herself. 

Cullen watched her carefully as he adjusted his stance, “Are you ready?”

She smiled mischievously, “Are you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dalish Tale: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner  
> A ship was sailing to the Frozen Seas. When it departed it made good time, but eventually became trapped in ice. An albatross appeared and led the ship safely through the ice. Despite most of the crew viewing the bird as a good omen, one of the mariners shoots down the bird with his bow. At first, the crew is angry with the mariner, but then the weather warms and the mist dissipates and they change their minds “Twas right, they say, such birds to slay”. It isn’t long before demons from the Fade appear, chasing the ship to a place where no wind blows and the ship sits unmoving. The crew runs out of water, and then blames the mariner for their thirst and force the mariner to wear the albatross around his neck. A demon ship appears, bearing Nightmare and Life-in-Death, who roll dice for the lives of the crew. Life-in-Death wins the mariner’s life and promises him a fate worse than death for killing the albatross. All of the crew members die one by one over the course of seven days, and the mariner sees the curse in their eyes and feels the albatross growing heavy around his neck. He sees the beauty in sea creatures around him and prays to Mythal, the protector and Goddess of Justice, to take his life for his crime against the albatross. As he prays, the albatross falls from his neck. Falon’Din possesses the bodies of the crew and help steer the ship back to land. Falon’Din takes the ship for his own, to guide the spirits of those on the ship to the afterlife, and the ship sinks into a whirlpool leaving only the mariner, struggling to swim to shore. He is spotted by a elf and his son and they rescue the mariner from the water, believing he is dead. They are surprised to find he is alive when they pull him into their boat, and he is cursed with wandering Thedas, telling his story to all who will listen as penance for killing the albatross. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! We hit 100 Kudos when I posted the last chapter and there was definitely some celebration happening over here. So thank you, it's really wonderful that so many people are enjoying my story. Tell me your thoughts below!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have a sparring match! Some reflecting too as the seasons begin to change in South Reach.

Mara Lavellan was full of surprises. He observed her closely as she approached the practice weapons and paused there before picking up two daggers. He’d been expecting her to pick up the staff. Most mages rely on staffs to focus their power and magic, and therefore fight with them. He realized with a bit of embarrassment that he’d never actually seen her with a staff. He hasn’t seen her use her magic outside of the garden or the infirmary and he wonders if it’s a conscious decision on her part, being surrounded by so many Templars. 

She settled into position like a seasoned warrior. He tensed a little, he may have underestimated her. He adjusted his stance, feet shifting closer together to account for her choice of weapon and positioning. He’ll need to move quickly, not take punishing blows, “Are you ready?”

There was a flash in her eyes that can only be read as a challenge, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, “Are you?”

He gave her a nod, readying himself to face off against her. His heart thudded in his chest, the familiar buzz of battle settling itself on his skin. He took quick stock of his weaknesses first, the aches and fatigue leftover from his previous spars a checklist in his head. He adjusted his strategy in his mind, planning his moves much like he would the chess board. He recognized immediately that his usual tactic will not work with her. He isn’t a large warrior so he’s always relied on playing defense long enough to his opponent to get sloppy and then he used his speed and their momentum against them. It’s a tactic that’s served him well.

But fighting her? She’d use that against him in an instant. Putting him on defense so much he never attacks. Whether he beats her or not, she is going to make this as painful as possible. Mara is never cruel, but she’s spirited enough never to back down from a fight. No, he will have to take his cues from her.  

She moved first, swinging her daggers in rhythmic consistency, each move measured, testing. Her attacks are to feel him out, to see his reactions. He sensed that, but does the same. She is all elegance as she moved around him. The daggers are a natural extension of her arms and she moved with such grace he’s unsure if she’s fighting or dancing. 

But they meet, his sword against her daggers. She lunged forward with force and he parried and dodged her blows. Her form is simple, practical, and there is no flourish to it. She read him and he her, actions and reactions. But there’s an art about it all its own. He gets lost watching her, the shuffle of their feet kicking up the dirt around them in puffs. The rest of the world falls away. There is only the meeting of blades as they continue to tread around each other.  

He examined her every move for a weakness, an opening. He saw a chance before long, if he attacked she must block and when she does he can use his shield to knock her down.The moves play out in his head before he surged towards her. He jabbed his sword at her high enough that when she blocked she left her torso unprotected, he rushed with his shield at her, but she twisted away, one dagger sliding along the length of his sword as she pirouetted out of his grasp. 

The rasp of their blades ended as she put a few paces between them. She raised her daggers again, and there was a quiet ferocity burning in her eyes. As much as he was watching her, she was watching him too. They paused for a moment and his eyes never left hers. 

“Getting tired?” he chided.

Her eyes narrowed into a glare, “Not quite.” He had just a split second before she careened forward, daggers slicing through the air straight at him. The ferocity has him excited, the real fight has begun. He swung his sword and she ducked, low to the ground and attacked again and that time she nearly had him. He dodged at the last moment, her dagger a whisper away from his torso. 

He was the one putting space between them then and he saw the triumph in her face. She almost had him and she knew it. But he won’t make it that easy for her. He rushed forward sword aimed high again, giving his last tactic another go. She crossed her daggers and shoved his sword high over her head, higher than he wanted. But it is no matter, his shield moved where his sword could not, he lowered it and continued rushing forward. He saw one of her arms drop, the other one bore the brunt of his sword, a graceful blur as she hooked the hilt of her dagger in the crook his elbow and yanked him forward .She dove to his right to avoid his fall. 

It’s too late to do anything, his momentum too strong and he landed on the ground with a thud. He scrambled to get up, but she pinned him in an instant, knocking his sword out of reach and holding a dagger at his throat. He was both frustrated at himself and mildly impressed with her. 

She was glistening with sweat and breathing hard. He pulled his eyes away from the rapid rise and fall of her chest and met her gaze. Her eyes were bright, adrenaline rush lighting her from within, “Do you yield?” she asked breathlessly. 

He was still reeling from being thrown to the ground so successfully. He could chalk up her victory to weeks without practice or having sparred several times before her, but he knew he’d been bested and he’s not too proud to admit it. 

“I yield,” he managed, still struggling to recapture his breath. She doesn’t move just then, and she was close enough he can see the flecks of gold in her eyes. Can she hear the hammering of his heart? He wasn’t sure he wanted her to move away, but she does. 

Mara held her hand out to him, and he took it gratefully and pushed himself out of the dirt. She smiled, blonde hair catching the sunlight, “You alright?”

“I think my ego is the only thing truly wounded,” he said low enough for just her to hear as he reluctantly drops her hand. 

“I did warn you,” she laughed nose scrunching and eyes crinkling in the corners. 

The others were clapping and talking amongst themselves and he moves a little closer to her, “You did.” It’s easy to forget just how small she is, barely as tall as his shoulder and here she is having thoroughly beaten him. He’s unsure why he wants to reach out for her, to pull her back close to him but the thought was broken by Branson’s hand on his shoulder. He turned and Rosalie and Mia pounced on Mara Gregory at their heels, all three of them offering congratulatory remarks. 

“She really kicked your ass,” Branson chuckled, having probably enjoyed watching him get beaten so soundly. 

Cullen sighed, “She really did.” And he can’t help but notice that even Nathaniel and Beatrice regard Mara with a little more respect than before. 

***

Cullen sat in the now familiar circle of chairs in the infirmary. His forearms resting on his legs as he listened, occasionally glancing up from the floor. Their meeting hasn’t been going long and he had some questions he posed to the group, but Nathaniel managed to hijacked the discussion. Again. 

“All I’m saying is that Templars had it far worse than mages ever have. Mages are put away for their own protection, but Templars enter willingly to the Chantry to be chained by lyrium. They never really explain the risks, it’s a wink and a nod. At least they’re forthright with the mages,” Nathaniel argued. 

Cullen didn’t miss the responsibilities or title he held with the Inquisition often, but today he missed the mantle of commander, so that he could just order him to shut up. Gregory spoke next, soft spoken as he was, he was opening up more, “It’s not a competition Nathaniel.”

Barris pulled rank, ending the discussion with a tone of authority, “The Chantry has wronged a lot of people. No sense trying to argue who has been wronged more.”

Cullen seized the opening glancing at the parchment in his hands, “Why don’t we move on? The absence of lyrium in our systems means that we begin remembering things we thought we’d forgotten. Sometimes these memories are painful. Has anyone experienced this and wants to share?”

Beatrice raised her hand, she’d softened since she arrived. She’d worn her hair so severely before, pulled back tight. Now the brown strands hung limply around her shoulders. She looked beaten, but better for it. The hard outer shell no longer something she hid behind, “I only attended a few really bad Harrowings, and it’s not that I ever really forgot them. But now they’re sharper somehow. I dream of them and it’s like it’s happening all over again.”

He glanced at the empty seat next to him, Mara was absent for the day’s meeting. Having been pulled to Mia’s by Rosalie. He thought of his dreams, the terrors that still woke him, how he had hoped they were just his demons and not anyone else’s. But there was some comfort in the admission by Beatrice. That he wasn’t the only one the Fade taunted with the past, chaining them to their memories. 

He took a breath, why was it that he always felt less brave in Mara’s absence? “The dreams bother me too. It’s gotten better, less frequent but still there,” he looked up to Beatrice, his words hanging in the air. He could feel their eyes on him, Barris did not look surprised. There was a reason he was so much better at bringing them back to reality than Mara was, and they saw it now for what it was. He suffered just as much as they did, perhaps more so given all he’d seen.  

“How often?” Barris asked quietly, not meeting his gaze and sliding his thumb over his knuckles. 

Cullen clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, “I don’t really keep track. It goes in waves though. There are bouts of time when it’s bad for days on end, and then times when I can pretend they never happen, until they return.” 

Barris doesn’t move and the entire room is silent for a moment. Gregory shifts in his chair, legs scratching against the floor. “So they might never go away?” Gregory doesn’t talk about his nightmares, what monsters haunt him in the night. But Cullen has held his flailing limbs, pulled him from their grasp more often than any of the others. Even after Gregory wakes, they do not speak of it. Sometimes Mara is there and she hums a Dalish song that seems to have soothing magic much like her slender fingers. 

“They might not,” Cullen admitted. 

Nathaniel scrutinized him from his chair leaning back, arms crossed. Nathaniel was a man content with being a Templar, relished in the power it gave him over others. When he wasn’t complaining, the lyrium withdrawal seemed to bother him least, “So none of this bullshit gets any easier?” 

Cullen considered that for a moment, had it gotten easier? But that wasn’t really the question Nathaniel was asking. He was asking him if it was worth it, if all the pain and perseverance was worth while. He’d nearly lost his mind once, and it was no gift. Somedays he wasn’t sure, but today he had a clear mind and his body didn’t ache and he was more convinced.

He had a bad day a few days ago, the headache was back with a vengeance and he’d felt so dizzy and lightheaded he had to hold onto the bed railing to remain upright. Mara had found him, and he supposed that was better than anyone else finding him in that state. Seemed to be able to read every single thought that passed through his head as she’d helped him. 

An albatross hung around his neck, she said. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to be wrong or right, but her words cut through him like they often did.  _ You’ve got a dead bird around your neck, Cullen. And you’re the only one who thinks it needs to be there _ , she’d said. Could she be right?

Barris quietly cleared his throat and Cullen was pulled from his thoughts. He sat back up in his chair, “I think it does. It never gets easy. But it gets better.”

Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed, as if he was looking for the lie, but looked away, satisfied. 

“Anything you’ve found that makes it better?” Beatrice asked, hopeful. 

“Finding something soothing to do before bed. Whatever that is for you, meditate, read, anything. Sometimes I play chess,” Cullen offered, thinking about his and Mara’s chess games that had become more and more frequent. 

He wanted to ask her to play more often, but wondered if she was just humoring him by playing. He still beat her more than she him, but he supposed they were even now though, after she’d quite publically defeated him in their sparring match a few days ago. 

“I think that being really tired helps, if I wait to go to sleep until I’m practically falling asleep doing whatever I’m doing,” Barris suggested. 

Cullen waited for a moment to see if Nathaniel or Gregory might jump in as well, when they didn’t he looked to Barris, “That was some helpful advice. Beatrice, have you noticed the dreams are better or worse depending on what you do the day before?”

Beatrice considered for a moment, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I don’t know.”

“You could keep a journal,” Gregory said earnestly and hastily added, “Might help.”

“That’s a great idea,” Cullen smiled at Gregory and received a tentative one in reply. The room fell into uncomfortable silence again.

Some days were easier to get the group talking and helping than others, today the conversations were stilted. Sometimes they’d talk for hours, with no need for direction. They shared experiences and feelings. There was a lot to be learned from one another. And some days, it was like this. He’d learned not to push it on those days. He folded up the piece of parchment with the discussion questions he’d written for the day and stood up. 

“What if we call it a day?” he said. The group nodded and murmured in agreement as they put their chairs back against the walls of the infirmary. 

Progress is often slow Mara had told him after a particularly difficult meeting. Today it felt impossible.

***

The day drifted to night without his noticing. The golden light of day fading into deep navy blue with the promise of autumn a slight chill in the air. Cullen had only noticed the light had changed when he was straining to read the reports and realized he needed to light candles. He hadn’t worked like this since the Inquisition. 

Cassandra had wanted a full report on how things had gone so far, and Cullen had put it off, hoping for a few good days in a row first. As if writing the report might jinx the good luck they’d had so far.

He looks up from the report at the sound of the front door opening and closing, quiet footsteps on the creaking floorboards. Mara leaned against the doorframe of his office when she came into the estate, arms crossed and looking more at ease than she had in weeks, “You’re up late.” 

“You were out late,” he quipped. 

“I was with your sisters,” she reminded. His sisters were night owls, despite living on a farm they enjoyed staying up long after others had gone to bed. He’s spent a lot of time talking with them in the late hours of the night when he’d arrived here. 

“Did you have a good time?” 

She laughed and smiled, “Oh yes. They told me some really embarrassing stories about you.”

“Oh?” he tried to look nonplussed as his mind reeled for what embarrassing stories his sisters could have told her. 

“Mmmmhmmm,” she smirked. 

He regarded her for a moment before responding, “You’re going to hold onto them and make some reference to them when I’m least expecting it aren’t you?”

“Probably.”

“Besides telling you stories, which may or may not be true, what else did my sisters force you into?” Rosie and Mia were both forces to be reckoned with on their own, but together? They’d likely convince Mara into just about anything. 

“They showed me around the farm. I’m going to go back and help in a few days when they’re ready to harvest,” Mara said. 

It was already that time. The days were still warm, but the nights had a sharp chill that had a decidedly autumn taste. The trees were yellowing, but winter’s here were far more mild than what he’d experienced in the Frostbacks. 

“I should be doing that, not you,” Cullen frowned. His siblings had done more than their fair share around the estate, he should be the one helping them. Paying them back for their help, their understanding.  

Mara shook her head, “They know you’re busy here, they wouldn’t expect it. I have the time.”

He took a moment to search for a solution, “Perhaps we should take everyone?” 

Mara thought about it, “I don’t see why not. If they’re willing and healthy.”

He sighed, he knew just who might not be willing, “We’ll try to frame it as part of recovery?” It was a joke and not a very good one. It earned a smile from Mara. 

“You can tell them,” Mara turned to leave. 

Cullen immediately moved from his desk, “Mara?”

She paused and looked back at him, he wanted to ask her to stay. Tell her that he needed a chess game, her presence to clear his head. That he could sense sleep might be elusive tonight. He wanted to tell her he was happy she spent time with his sisters, that seeing her with his family made him happy for some inexplicable reason. There were a lot of things he wanted to say. But a familiar yet unfamiliar feeling gripped him. 

“Cullen?” she asked when he failed to speak. 

He swallowed thickly changing his mind, “Sleep well.”

He hoped he saw the tiniest bit of disappointment in her face as she nodded, “You too.”

Cullen sank into his chair, running his hands through his hair. What was that about? Suddenly the fear that she might say no, that she might not want to stay there with him had burrowed into his mind and the words wouldn’t come out. He wasn’t sure he deserved her presence anyways. 

He stayed longer than he needed to, the report to Cassandra far more detailed than she’d ever care about. But he worked until his eyes were heavy with sleep, blew out the candles and dragged himself upstairs to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written sparring before and totally agonized over it, so let me know what you think? As always, thanks for reading. I really appreciate You guys that are reading along on this journey, you guys keep me writing. <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvest time has arrived, and with that comes work. But also friendship and a festival too.

The wheat field moved like the sea, rippling and whistling in the breeze. A golden shimmer in the sun. Mara waded out into the full field each morning when the light was still pale blue over the countryside and just the hint of a chill caught with the air. The sky was clear, cloudless and the hills met the sky in rolling waves out in the distance. She shivered a little in the breeze, her skin covered in goosebumps. She loved the mornings best, the start of the day. Loved them because of their fleetingness and not in spite of it. The sun rose higher in the sky and bathed the entire field in shimmering light.

The crunch of cut stalks beneath her feet was punctuated by the slicing of the scythe in Rosalie’s hands. She followed along behind her as she cut the stalks down, tying the bundles into sheaves the way Mia had taught her. She picked up the handfuls Rosalie left in her wake, pulling a few stalks of wheat and twisting them around the bundle and tying them before placing them back on the ground. 

The sun beat down, and Mara found herself sweating under the heat but enjoying it. There was a certain satisfaction to the work they were doing, the progress being made. She relished the feel of dropping into her bed at the end of the day, muscles sore from use. It seemed that everyone benefitted from the days, even the nightmares seemed to stay away from the estate. 

She and Rosalie moved efficiently in a long line down the field. Clara and Liam ran behind them collecting the sheaves and stacked them into stooks while Henry chased them, knocking over stooks in his attempt to help them. Mia and her husband worked a row, much faster than anyone else, years of farming making them experts. 

It was repetitive work, but Mara welcomed it. Her thoughts had felt jumbled for days, like she couldn’t truly focus on anything. The itch to leave had passed as Mia and Rosalie dragged her away from the estate more and more often. She enjoyed spending time with them, loved the farm, the feeling of belonging that they cultivated with her, but she found she missed Cullen. She did not miss the long terrible days of the infirmary, but missed the closeness between them that had grown out of it. There were still chess games every now and again, she wondered if he found her a boring opponent, as he beat her more often than not. 

And then there was the sparring match that had her cheeks growing warm just thinking about it. She’d never been more attracted to him than when he was charging at her, sword and shield in hand, his tunic pulled tight over his taut muscles. She’d wanted to linger as she held her dagger to his throat pinning him beneath her. They hadn’t spoken of it since. 

She wasn’t sure when the realization hit her, it dawned on her slowly like watching an hourglass, the more you watched the less it changed. But once you looked away and back again, everything had changed. And when she realized it, it was a truth that could not be ignored. She cared for him. Felt her heart pounding when he entered a room, he could always coax a smile out of her no matter how difficult the day. And she felt ridiculously foolish for all of it. But she still found herself searching him out, eyes roaming the field for a glimpse of him. 

She found him across the field, tunic sleeves rolled up to the elbow and golden hair glowing in the sun. He and Branson were working opposite ends of the same line, racing to see which side of the middle they met on. Ever the competition with them. Barris and Gregory trailed behind both clumsily tying sheaves. 

This field was nearly done, and if Mia’s calculations were correct, and they usually were, they would be done in two days time at this pace. When Cullen had announced they would be helping  at the farm for a few days it was met with an unexpected enthusiasm. There was very little grumbling even from the usual suspects. When she’d mentioned her surprise to Barris he’d only shrugged and said they could see the sacrifices Cullen’s family had made to help them, it’d feel good to pay it back. 

She and Rosalie reached the end of their line and Rosie paused, scythe set down and taking a drink of water. Rosie offered the waterskin to her once she’d tied the last sheave. 

“Thank you,” Mara said looking over their work so far. 

“Welcome. We’re a solid team, you tie those really fast!” Rosie commented. 

Mara shrugged, “It’s not so different from tying off herbs.”

“All the extra help will mean we’ll really get to enjoy the Firelight Festival this year!” Rosie said excitedly, fingers twisting through the tendrils of her pulled back hair. 

“Firelight Festival?” Mara asked. She’d been in South Reach for nearly a year now and wasn’t familiar with the name. 

“It’s the celebration of the end of the harvest. There’s music and dancing and food in the streets, and a giant bonfire in the middle of the town square,” Rosie said dreamily. 

Mara chuckled, “Sounds lovely.”

Rosie cocked her head at her, “You’ll come, right?” 

She looked into Rosie’s hopeful face not wanting to disappoint, but still unsure, “I don’t know…” 

“But you have to come!” Rosie said, “It’ll be fun, we should get everyone to come!” Rosie gestured to the field around them. 

“Um….good luck with that,” Mara said nodding in Cullen’s direction. 

Rosie smiled, “Oh I’ll convince the grump. Don’t you even worry about that. Come on, say you’ll come?”

“Come to what?” Branson joined them at the end of the row, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. He must have beaten Cullen.

“The Firelight Festival!” Rosie chimed. 

“Oh...the Festival,” Branson nodded and smiled, “Quite the party.”

“It’s my favorite time of year, aside from Satinalia,” Rosie said. 

“Only because my dear sister gets pushed around the town square by every eligible man in South Reach.”

Rosie blushed a little, “I do not.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there are plenty of eligible men to go around,” Branson winked at her. 

Rosie ignored his remark and shouted to Barris who was approaching the group with Gregory in tow, “What do you think Barris, has everyone earned a night of celebration after this?”

Barris smiled at her, “I think so m’lady! What do you have in mind?”

“We are all going to the Firelight Festival. It’s decided. And even you,” she pointed to Cullen who looked at her surprised, “aren’t going to stop us.” 

Cullen raised his hands in surrender with a laugh, and they got back to work. 

They labored deep into the afternoon that day, until one more square of field was completely done. Then, Rosie dragged her into the house with Mia not too far behind, Rosie had a look in her eye and Mara wasn’t sure what to expect. They had been talking about clothes for the festival and Mara had admitted she didn’t own any dresses. The look of consternation on Rosie’s face was enough to get anyone worried, but she’d taken her arm and pulled her along with a single mindedness that was a force all its own. 

“I can’t believe you don’t own a single dress!” Rosie said in disbelief for what felt like the third time as she led Mara to her room in Mia’s house. 

Mara shrugged, “What occasion would I ever have to wear a dress?”

“What about in your clan? For celebrations?” Rosie prompted. 

“The most common celebrations were bondings, I had to wear my robes as First. But it’s not really a dress and I didn’t bring those with me,” Mara laughed. She wasn’t necessarily opposed to wearing skirts or dresses, it just hadn’t often made sense. It’s a lot more convenient to work and fight in breeches, and often when she was stationed at battles for the Inquisition, the healing tents were not far from the front. She’d always been ready, just in case. 

Rosie though, seemed bent on getting Mara in a dress and when Mia hadn’t come to her aid she figured she might as well not fight it. Rosie opened her closet, it had been carefully organized each garment hanging in orderly fashion. 

Mia sat on the bed a smile on her face, “It’s nice to get dressed up every now and again. The Firelight Festival is a good occasion for that.”

Rosie’s tawny eyes roved over the dresses as she spoke, “It’s true, it’ll be fun. I’m afraid they’re not very fancy and some of them are Mia’s old dresses.”

“Rosie, I really can just wear normal clothes,” Mara sighed. 

Rosie turned on her quickly, “No. Mara you deserve a pretty dress.”

Mara laughed, “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I looked pretty.”

“You’re not spending near enough time with Cullen for that to rub off on you then,” Mia laughed. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“His hair!” Rosie giggled, “He likes to take his time with it.”

Mia covered her hand with her mouth giggling as well, “Did you really think it got that way on its own? His hair would look just like Bran’s if he’d let it.”

Mara laughed too, “You two are terrible.”

“Rosie keeps wanting to sneak into his room and take whatever he uses to style it,” Mia explained.

“Just to see what he’d do,” Rosie smiled mischievously.  

“I can probably help with that,” Mara volunteered, curiosity piqued. 

Rosie pulled a simple purple frock from the closet, “What about his one? It’s one of my favorites.”   
“Then you should wear it,” Mara said eyeing the dress. The color was deep, though the cut of the dress was simple. It wasn’t flashy, but even she had to admit it was lovely.

Rosie laughed, “I already know what I’m wearing.” She handed Mara the dress and pulled a light blue dress from the closet. It had round buttons coming diagonally down the front and a piece of lace hung haphazardly from the collar. 

“It’s not done yet,” Rosie admitted, “I’ve got to get the final bit sewn into place.”

“It’s lovely,” Mara complimented, “Did you make it yourself?”

Rosie laughed, “No, just making some adjustments to it so it’s more to my liking. We’ll leave so you can try the dress on.”

“Try it on?” Mara asked. 

“Yes, in case it needs to be adjusted,” Mia chuckled and walked out of the room. 

Mara sighed and pulled her tunic over her head, kicked her boots off and discarded her breeches on the floor before picking them up and folding them neatly. She pulled the dress over her head and it slid on easily, fabric pooling at her feet. Rosalie wasn’t very tall, but she was still a few inches taller than her and the dress was entirely too big. 

She caught a reflection of herself in the long mirror that hung on the wall of Rosie’s room. The purple of the dress made her green eyes look somehow deeper and her blonde hair that hung at her shoulders seemed to glow. She looked entirely unsure of herself, too big dress hanging off her in awkward places, but she liked the short sleeves, revealing the twisting of the vallaslin that snaked up her left arm. 

She picked up the front of the dress and opened the door, “I think it’s a little too long.” Rosie and Mia were waiting at the door an excited looks on their faces as she opened it up. 

“Oh Mara, it’s lovely on you!” Rosie squealed, “But you’re right, we need to adjust it a bit.”

She pulled her by the hand to stand in front of the mirror and immediately began folding the bottom of the dress searching for the right length. 

“This dress is yours Rosie, I don’t want you to worry about it fitting me,” Mara said,guilt pooling in her stomach as Rosie worked.

“The hem won’t be permanent. Don’t worry!” she pulled at the side of the dress sticking a pin along Mara’s torso and doing the same on the other side. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little tight?” Mara asked as she continued pinning the bottom of the dress. 

Rosalie laughed, “Is there such a thing?”

“I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with Ferelden fashion rules,” Mara said, trying to keep still. 

“I think the only rule is don’t look Orlesian,” Mia quipped taking her place back on the bed. 

“Oh?”

They all descended into a fit of giggles as Rosie kept working. 

“Maybe in the spring we can go into Denerim for actual dress shopping?” Rosie looked to Mia. 

Mia adjusted on the bed, leaning on one hand, “I don’t see why not. Mara could come too.” Mara could see her gentle smile in the reflection of the mirror. 

“I’d like that,” Mara replied, breaking her own rules. She was making plans, thinking beyond just the present moment. It felt strange and yet there was a feeling of belonging that she hadn’t felt in so long. She’d never had any siblings, and while she laughed and joked with Rosalie and Mia she wondered if this was what it was like to have sisters. At the very least, they were good friends and it’d been too long since Mara had been able to say that.  

***

Everyone worked two more long, hard days in the field, finishing the second afternoon when the sun was beginning to sink low. The exhaustion did not seem to dampen spirits though, the templars talked excitedly about what the Rutherfords had told them of the festival that would be happening the next night. 

The day of the festival dawned bright and cheery and there was an air of anticipation in the house. She found herself excited almost despite herself, she’d attended human celebrations before, Satinalia and things of the like, but nothing like this and she wondered what to expect. Rosie had been too excited to really make a lot of sense about what it actually was. Mia had been a little more helpful explaining there was food and dancing, mostly it was a time for everyone to get together and celebrate the hard work of the harvest being done. 

The day was one of recovery, she spent the morning healing the minor aches and pains of the days before, tending to her garden and mixing elfroot tea to aid in banishing the pain of the sore muscles. The templars were all warriors, and while that granted them a certain physical prowess, they were not used to farm work. 

Mara took her time to get ready. She very rarely allowed herself the time spent in front of the mirror most women seemed to take. She had a routine, a short one and she followed it. But today, she slowly brushed the tresses of her hair out and twisted a braid along the side. She slipped into the dress Rosie had dropped off earlier, which fit perfectly. She stood there for a while, trying to get comfortable with herself. She pulled and tugged at the dress, trying to decide if wearing it really was a good idea. Rosalie would likely kill her if she didn’t, but she was weighing her odds against slipping back into a comfortable pair of breeches. Far more of her was concealed in this dress than her usual clothing, but for some reason she felt terribly vulnerable.

The sound of voices downstairs stopped her train of thought, she gathered her courage and walked out of her room before she could change her mind. She rounded the corner into the foyer and resisted the urge to smooth out wrinkles in the dress that weren’t there. 

The entire outlook of the house had seemed to change the last few days and it felt very much like that first night the templars arrived. It was a welcome change, seeing them laughing and jovially talking together. 

Barris noticed she’d entered the room and walked over to her, “Well look at that. Our head healer cleans up pretty good.” He smiled down at her, he was wearing a shirt of brilliant green, belted at the waist that made his seafoam eyes even more striking. 

“Well so do you,” she laughed feeling a little more confident with his compliment. 

Nathaniel, Beatrice and Gregory were all there, eagerly waiting for the time to leave. Cullen was nowhere to be found, “And here I thought you might be waiting on me.”

“Just waiting on the commander!” Nathaniel called loud enough that Cullen could probably hear. Their only response was the unmistakeable footfalls of someone coming down the stairs. 

Cullen appeared then, gloves in hand smirking a little, “You say that like you didn’t just get down here, Nathaniel.” Nathaniel shrugged in response, admitting the truth of the remark with his lack of defense. 

“We’re ready to go?” Mara asked, eyes meeting Cullen’s. He was wearing a leather jacket over his usual tunic and breeches and she found it hard not to admire the way he looked. 

“Um...yes...I think so,” he seemed to stumble over his words. 

Barris gave them both a cursory glance, “Well you heard the man, let’s go!” 

The templars filtered out of the house and she followed, pausing on the porch for a moment while Cullen pulled the door closed. 

“You look really nice,” he said offhand as he descended the steps. 

“As do you,”she glanced at him she fell into step beside him, but chanced a glance his direction. Cullen kept his eyes trained on the road. 

“It’s a nice evening,” he said after a few quiet moments had passed. 

Mara resisted the urge to make a sarcastic remark, “It is. You ever been to this festival?” 

Cullen seemed to relax then, “Not this festival. But Honnleath did something very similar. I have fond memories of attending with my family.”

“Oh?” she asked, prompting him forward, hoping to recapture the easy conversation that had been elusive as of late. 

“I remember one year Mia and I being very upset that we couldn’t bring our pet goat with us. We decided it would be a fantastic idea to sneak home and get him, because we couldn’t bear the thought of him missing the festival. But when we went and got him we must have left the gate open. Because suddenly we’re walking down the road and there’s a whole herd of sheep following us and headed straight for the festival.”

She laughed, “Oh no! What happened?”

“My parents and the rest of the neighbors spent the next few hours collecting sheep. I’d never seen my father so angry. I thought for sure he was going to skin us both alive,” Cullen chuckled. 

“All that, for your goat to attend the festival?” she asked, still laughing. 

“Yes. And I don’t even remember its name!”

She’d never heard him talk so freely about his childhood before, and she knew that it was sign of trust between them that he would share this story as they walked along the road. If nothing else came of tonight, she’d be perfectly content hearing him laugh. So they walked side by side down the road, trailing a little behind the group as the sun dipped low in the sky. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a ridiculous amount of research about wheat harvesting for this chapter, but am still by no means an expert. But there you go, weird things you research because of writing. And *incoherent screaming* we might actually be getting close to these two figuring out their feelings! Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone attends the Firelight Festival, but it's not quite all fun and games.

To Cullen, it seemed that the town square was glowing, firelight ricocheted off the sides of the buildings casting long shadows as people moved deeper through the celebration. Merchants and food vendors lined the sides of the square, and people wound through the brightly colored booths. Music lifted up into the night, like an offering to the stars that twinkled in tune with the beat as townspeople danced on the far end of the square. Lanterns hung on strings and ran between buildings in long lines of flickering light. Despite the dark sky stretched out over them, the town square was warm with resplendent light. 

Their group had splintered into smaller ones. Beatrice, Nathaniel and Gregory had gone to inspect the merchant’s wares. Clara, Liam and Henry were playing along with other children on a grassy area with a huge gnarled oak tree. People greeted his family as they walked, faces he recognized and a lot he didn’t. Several pulled Mara aside to speak with her, people she must have known from her time at the hospital. A man he recognized as the apothecary greeted her warmly and warned him that he better be paying her well for stealing her away. 

Barris had stuck with him as he followed his family, well mostly Rosalie, who had latched onto Mara’s arm and pulled her along through the throngs of people. His stomach dropped as he realized her destination was the dancing area and he suddenly wished he was perusing the booths with the templars. 

He was formulating an exit plan when he was torn from his thoughts by squeals and movement near him. Two women immediately pulled Rosie into hugs. He looked around hopelessly, Barris seemed content to stand there, not quite part of the conversation while Branson, Mia and Matthew were speaking with a couple a few paces away.

“Oh my goodness, your dress is divine!” a woman with jet black hair and cold brown eyes said when she pulled away from Rosalie. 

“Always the belle of the ball,” the woman in a red dress said, but sounding slightly less thrilled than the other woman. 

Rosie looked pleased with herself, “You both look lovely, truly.” 

The woman with black hair looked him over and licked her lips and then turned back to his sister, “Please introduce us….”

Rosie pulled him closer and gestured to Barris as well, “This is my brother, Cullen and Delrin Barris. And this is Mara. This is Grace and Brianne.” She said pointing first to the dark haired woman and then the woman in red. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said politely. Barris murmured much of the same, and Mara smiled warmly. 

“Weren’t you the commander of the Inquisition?” Grace asked, moving a little closer to him. 

He nodded, “I was.”

“That must have been a very stressful job,” Brianne commented as she pushed her way forward. Cullen felt his stomach churn into knots at the way she looked at him. It was similar to how he’d felt at the Winter Palace, crowded by nobles who peppered him with questions they didn’t care about the answers to. 

“It was,” he said trying to sound disinterested as he glanced away from her, pretending watch the musicians on the platform. 

He could hear the frown in Grace’s voice when she spoke, “Not a man of a lot of words, are you?”

“Isn’t this one of your dresses Rosie?” Brianne said with disdain while looking at Mara. The comment pulled the full force of Grace’s attention back to Mara. Grace exchanged a loaded glance with Brianne. 

Rosie’s smile faltered a little, “Yeah, doesn’t it look nice on her?”

“You used to work in the hospital didn’t you?” Grace asked, her voice sickly sweet. 

Mara tentatively nodded, “I did.” Cullen could see suspicion coiling in her eyes as the conversation unraveled. 

“With the Inquisition?” Brianne’s voice had assumed the same tone as Grace’s. 

“Yes,” Mara replied tightly. 

“I thought everyone with the Inquisition went home. Don’t you have a clan or an alienage to return to or something?” Grace smiled. Cullen’s blood boiled at the comment, leaving him wanting to jump in immediately, but Mara was more than capable of defending herself. 

Mara’s mouth opened, but Rosie jumped in, “Grace! That’s really rude!”

“Oh honey, it was just a question,” Brianne defended. 

Mara smiled looking completely unaffected, “So I guess the old adage is true, a mabari’s bark is worse than its bite.”

Grace snarled, and Cullen moved between them, blocking Mara. It was not so much about protecting Mara as it was Grace. Mara could take her, unarmed in her sleep, and while he’d never seen her lose her temper he didn’t want to find out how much pushing it would take. 

He crossed his arms and gave Grace a withering look, “You should go.” Barris flanked him, staring down at the woman as well. To her credit, Grace didn’t move and instead continued to scowl at him. 

Rosie wound around his side, eyes narrowed, “Mara’s my friend, and I won’t put up with your bullshit.” 

Grace and Brianne recognized they were beat. They linked their arms and Brianne looked like she was forcing a smile, “We’ll see you later Rosie.” 

They melted into the crowd and he turned his attention to Mara whose smile had faded and looked more annoyed than hurt. “Well they were delightful,” she looked pointedly at Rosie but laughed. 

“Interesting friends you’ve got Rosie,” Cullen said through gritted teeth. 

“Not sure I’d call them that at this point,” Rosie stared angrily into the crowd where they’d disappeared, “I’m so sorry Mara. They were so rude to you, I had no idea they would be so mean.”

Mara laughed, “I’ve had worse, and you don’t need to apologize for them.” 

“Their attitudes are shameful,” Barris said seethingly. 

“You’re alright?” Cullen asked. 

“Just fine, really. Aren’t we here to have fun or something?” Mara changed the subject.

Mia, Matthew and Branson rejoined them, and Rosie nodded excitedly, “Come on!” She led them all deeper into the square to the dance area. Matthew and Mia slipped out onto the floor first, laughing together as they danced. 

Branson bowed before Mara, “May I have this dance?” 

Mara looked a little concerned at the question, eyes wide as she looked at the dancers, “I don’t know the steps.”

“It’s easy, follow my lead,” Branson smiled reassuringly. He took her hand in his and led her to a mostly empty space guiding her through the steps slowly at first. 

He and Rosie were left standing there with Barris. He offered his sister his hand, “Would you like to dance?” He turned to Barris, “That is, if Delrin doesn’t object to being left alone?” 

Barris laughed, “I’m perfectly capable of finding a dance partner, Cullen.” 

Rosie winked at Barris, “Prove it.” Barris laughed as Cullen led Rosie out onto the dance floor. He was so ill suited for the stuffy polite dancing of the Winter Palace, but here no one cared if you misstepped or stumbled. It was about fun. He still remembered the simple steps from his childhood, his sisters had made him learn so he could dance with them. He’d grumbled about it then, but now he was grateful for the knowledge. 

He kept seeing Mara in the crowd, dancing and laughing with Branson. Maker she was beautiful tonight. She glowed in the golden light of the festival as she spun with his brother. 

“You should ask her to dance,” Rosalie urged following his line of sight. 

He looked down to his sister, the flowers in her curly blonde hair bouncing as she danced with him. “I don’t know, Rosie.”

“You two just need to be in love already,” Rosie sighed, looking back to Mara. “I think she cares for you, you know.”

“You and Branson are incorrigible,” Cullen said, tearing his eyes away from Mara. 

Rosie shrugged giving him a mischievous look, “If you don’t ask her, I’ll do it for you.”

“Leave it alone, Rosie,” Cullen admonished her. 

Rosie frowned and raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

There were a lot of reasons, too many reasons that exploring whatever lay between him and Mara was a terrible idea. He hadn’t felt anything about anyone since Lorraine, assumed he never would. She was a fluke in his life, the months they spent together were some anomaly. And in the end, she hadn’t wanted him and he couldn’t blame her. Mara might know more of his demons than most, but there were still things she didn’t. He’d found a good friend in Mara, there was no sense in ruining that. 

The song ended and the group reformed, saving him from answering Rosalie. The crowd cheered and clapped, while the band up on a stage that had been erected in the town square shifted around as the Arl took the stage. The crowd quieted in his presence, giving him their attention.

“Welcome to this year’s Firelight Festival!” he said to roaring applause, “As we have for the last few years, we take a moment to honor the Hero of South Reach. After the tear in the sky appeared smaller rifts appeared all over Thedas, ones that could only be closed by the Herald of Andraste. One opened in the hills west of here and our brave South Reach Guard went to defend the city from the onslaught of demons.” 

There was more cheering and the Arl waited a moment before continuing, “A group of bandits attacked the city, knowing the guard was occupied with the demons. The head of the guard was injured and unable to lead the troops, when a stranger appeared. We do not know who they were, man or woman, human or something else. But they defended our city, led our guard against the demons and defeated the bandits! Let us take a moment to remember the brave stranger who saved us all. TO THE HERO OF SOUTH REACH!”

The Arl raised a glass and the cheers that followed drowned everything else out. Cullen was familiar with the story, the stranger who had appeared and saved the city. He had a nagging feeling that Leliana had known who the unsung hero was, but he couldn’t remember for sure. He looked down to Mara who was smiling slightly at the celebration around her.

The music began again with a collection of cheerful notes Rosie shot him a look and immediately grabbed Mara, pulling her out dancing with her. It didn’t take long before Barris joined them, asking Rosie to dance and Mara wound her way back to him and Branson while Mia and Matthew resumed dancing. 

“I’m going to go find a partner perhaps the two of you should too,” Branson winked at them as he left them.

“Your siblings seem to be conspiring against us,” Mara commented. 

“Oh?” Cullen swallowed hard, could already feel his hands sweating. 

“Rosie said that if I didn’t ask you that she’d do it for me,” Mara laughed. 

He cleared his throat, his attempt at a laugh sounding more forced than anything, “She made the same threat to me.” 

Mara nodded and looked at the ground.

The music continued to play, couples danced around them, and he stood there awkwardly trying to figure out what to say.  

He took a deep breath, “Do you...do you want to dance?” 

“We don’t have to. Especially not to appease your siblings,” Mara smiled, letting him off the hook or perhaps she didn’t want to dance with him. But her green eyes held nothing but kindness, so he swallowed any fear he had.  

“I...um...I want to,” he held out his hand and the smile he got in return was worth it. Her slender fingers slipped into his and he wondered if she could see the blood he’d felt rush to his face. He placed his other hand lightly on her waist and pulled her to the floor leading her in the provincial dance. 

Mara stumbled as they spun and he caught her, eyes bright with humor, “I’m terrible at these human dances.”

He laughed with her, “You’re doing great.”

“You’re not so bad at this for a Templar either,” she beamed, “Do they teach you how to lead ladies around the dance floor in the Chantry?”

“What? You don’t think this is just Maker given talent?” he teased as they moved together on the dance floor. She was graceful even though she was a little unsure. 

She cocked her head, “Is it?”

“Definitely not,” he smiled. 

The song ended, but he didn’t move them from the floor. They’d just barely begun dancing and he wasn’t sure he was ready to let go of her just yet. The music began softly, slower than before. He pulled her a little closer, drifting into a simple waltz. He wanted to memorize this, the feel of her in his arms, her smile and laughter given freely as if the last few weeks hadn’t happened. Maker, he loved her laugh. He wanted her to be laughing and smiling always.

“Had you heard that story before? About the Hero?” 

She smiled and there was something in the way she looked at him that made him wonder what she was thinking, “It’s sort of local legend around here isn’t it? The tale gets a little taller every time I hear it.”

“I suppose that is the way of things,” he commented. 

“It is,” she chuckled, “whoever they are, I don’t think they wanted all this recognition.” 

He noticed she melted a little closer to him as they moved, legs just short of brushing. There was an electricity in the air, a buzzing feeling that made his stomach knot in anticipation. She was close, closer than she’d been since their sparring match. She smelled like sunlight as the hem of her dress brushed the tips of his boots. 

“Can’t say I blame them,” he breathed. 

“Do you hate that your title still follows you?” she asked.

He nodded, “Sometimes. Does it bother you?”

Her green eyes bore into his, “Why would it bother me?” 

Her question hung in the air for a moment between them and he held her gaze, wanted to find a way to say all of the words he knew that he shouldn’t. He realized they’d stopped moving some time ago, but he wasn’t sure if he cared. He was short of breath, and it had nothing to do with the dancing. 

A hand grabbed his arm and he was immediately pulled from the moment. He turned to see Mia’s worried eyes, “It’s Liam. He’s hurt! Mara...could you…?” 

He and Mara broke apart as they followed Mia to the great oak tree on the other side of the square where Matthew held a crying Liam and Clara attempted to sooth a sobbing Henry. 

Mara was on her knees next to Matthew, voice gentle, “What happened?” 

“He fell from the tree,” Clara explained. 

Liam was cradling his left arm and Mara moved a little closer, “Liam, can you tell me where it hurts?”

He nodded and pointed to his shoulder, she lightly moved his shirt out of the way to look along the shoulder, and even Cullen could see that his collarbone looked off. The skin was raised where the line of the bone should have been clean. It wasn’t an uncommon injury among recruits, still learning to spar and hold their shields correctly.  

Mara looked to Mia, “His collarbone is broken, and it’s going to need to be set. I’d rather not have to do it twice. Let’s take him back to the house and we’ll take care of it there.” 

“Let’s go,” Matthew said as he stood, carrying Liam gently in his arms while he tried to soothe him. Clara looked very worried and Henry clung to her skirts still sobbing. 

Mara held out her arms to Henry, “Hey, come here.” He relinquished his hold on Clara and wrapped his arms around Mara’s neck. She scooped up the boy, “Shhhh….it’s going to be okay.”

“We should let the others know that we’re leaving,” Mia glanced around as they began to walk from the square. 

Cullen nodded, “I’ll go tell Rosie.” He wandered back to the dance floor, to find her and Barris still dancing. 

“Rosie,” he grasped her shoulder. 

She looked up at him expectantly, “Liam broke his collarbone, we’re taking him back to Mia’s.”

Rosie’s eyes widened, “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine, Mara just needs to set it,” he explained. 

“We should go,” Rosie looked to Barris. 

Cullen shook his head, “You can stay, have a good time.”

Rosie sighed, she clearly wanted to stay, “Okay.”

He looked to Barris, “You’ll make sure she gets home?”

Barris smiled, “Of course.”

Cullen nodded and walked briskly away. He wanted to catch up to his family, but was also worried about the templars. Perhaps after he’d made sure things were fine at Mia’s he should return, make sure they made it back to the estate?

He jogged a little along the road to close the distance. Mara was trailing behind everyone else, carrying a very tired looking Henry. 

“You could have stayed you know,” she said when he reached her. 

“I didn’t really want to,” he said truthfully. Not unless she was there. He noticed she kept shifting her arms around Henry. He held out his hands, “Here, let me take him.”

She passed Henry to him gratefully, “I didn’t really think this through.”

“He’s pretty heavy,” he laughed as she shook out her arms. Henry cuddled into the crook of his neck, breaths slow and even. 

“More than I expected,” Mara looked up at him a smile on her lips. 

“I should probably go back and make sure everyone gets home alright after we take care of Liam,” he suggested. 

Mara’s arms were folded, “You know Cullen, they are all grown adults. They can probably handle making it home on their own.”

He sighed, “I just thought…that perhaps…”

“You’re worried. It’s understandable, but they’ll be fine,” she said kindly. It was still early, enough so that only one moon hung in the sky illuminating the path as they walked. Mara’s hair looked silvery in the moonlight, her skin had a slight glow except where the vallaslin wound up her arm. He fastened his eyes on the road. 

It didn’t take long before they were at Mia’s house, entering the warm glow of the front room. Mia and Mara followed Matthew into Liam’s room while Cullen went to put the sleeping Henry in Branson’s room. 

He could hear Mara busying Matthew and Mia, asking for some supplies. They were moving in the kitchen when he entered Liam’s room. The room was littered with toys, a wooden sword leaning against the wall. Liam had put up pictures on the walls, mostly of himself as a knight fighting dragons. 

Liam was lying in the bed, his shirt removed. Cullen could see the jagged evidence of the bone having been broken more clearly now. Mara sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m going to use some magic to numb your arm a little bit, okay?” Mara explained. Fingers outstretched. 

Liam shook his head and she pulled back, “My friends...my friends said magic is bad.”

Mara frowned, “Oh?” 

“They said that mages do bad things,” Liam looked around nervously. 

“Not all mages are bad, and not all magic is bad,” Mara explained. Cullen could hear the gentleness in her voice, the soothing quality it always had. She never pushed, but she was firm. He felt a chill enter the room and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

“Is it snowing?” Liam asked as flakes fell down on him from the ceiling of his room. 

“Not all magic is bad,” Mara smiled, looking back to him. No, not all magic was bad. Some of it was downright beautiful like the perfect snowflakes that careened through the air around them.  

Liam looked around in awe, “It’s snowing in my room!”

Mara laughed, “It is. I know lots of cool tricks. But now I need to numb up your arm a bit.” 

Liam nodded as she placed her slender fingers in place and the boy shivered, “Your hands are cold.”

“They have to be to numb you up,” Mara smiled. “Cullen, can you please keep Mia and Matthew out for a few minutes, while I set the bone?”

Cullen nodded, understanding and closed the door behind him. He’d seen many a bone set in the field. While Mara was being abundantly cautious, he couldn’t imagine that Mia or Matthew would want to see Liam in the level of pain he would be in as she adjusted the bone. 

Mia was in the hallway when he turned around, “How are things?”

“They’re fine,” Cullen said. “What can I help with?” 

“Mara instructed me to get some cloth, to make a sling and Matthew is brewing some tea she asked for. It’s supposed to help him sleep,” Mia explained eyes worriedly watching the door behind him. 

“Okay,” he said. And they could hear Liam’s cry come from the other side of the door. 

Mia’s eyes widened and she started for the door. Cullen caught her, “Mara asked that I keep you here.” 

Mia glared at him, “I could have handled it.”

“Did you really want to witness that?” Cullen asked. 

Mia shook her head chewing the inside of her cheek, a habit Cullen noticed she fell back on when she was agitated. She wandered back towards the kitchen, and he followed, throwing a glance back at the closed door. 

“Mara will come get us when she’s ready for us,” he explained. Mia sunk into a chair at the kitchen table. Head in her hands. 

“We should have been watching him more closely,” she muttered. 

Matthew sunk to his knees next to her, arm around her shoulders, “Kids will be kids, honey. How many trees did you climb when you were younger?”

She looked to her husband, “A lot.”

“Did you ever get hurt?” Matthew asked, voice kind. 

“Plenty of times,” Mia admitted, looking to Cullen, “You remember when I sliced my hand open?” She ran her fingers absentmindedly over the place where Cullen knew she bore a scar from the incident. 

“I do.”

“We did a lot of stupid things,” Mia laughed, “You remember when we tried to take Tucker to the harvest festival?”

“That was his name!” Cullen laughed, he’d been surprised that he couldn’t recall the goat’s name as he’d told Mara the story. 

Mia and Matthew laughed. Cullen smiled, “We did a lot of stupid things when we were kids, and we turned out just fine. Well….most of us.”

“Hey! Be nice about your siblings,” Mia swatted at him halfheartedly. 

“I wasn’t talking about them,” he admitted. 

“But Branson….” Matthew joked. His wife glared at him as she tried not to laugh. 

Mara’s voice called from down the hallway, “If you want to come in now you can. Maybe bring the sling with you?”

Cullen stood and followed Matthew and Mia into Liam’s room. Mara took the sling from Mia, “I’m going to put this sling on you so that you can’t jostle the arm okay?” 

Liam nodded and she pulled him up to a sitting position while she gently tied the sling around him and put his arm through it. She set him back down and stood up. Mia took Mara’s place at Liam’s bedside with Matthew not far behind. 

“I’ll come back and check on the healing in the morning, but just to be safe let’s plan on having him rest all day tomorrow,” Mara said. 

“Thank you,” Matthew said smiling at Mara. 

Mia turned back from Liam’s bed, “Yes, thank you. Mara.”

Mara nodded and left the room. Cullen followed her to the main room. 

“Well?” 

She shrugged, “Done all I can do tonight. It should heal up fine though.” 

“Do you want to go back to the festival?” Cullen asked, sincerely hoping she did not say yes. 

Mara sighed, “Not really. I’m tired. But you can.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, “I would rather not actually. We can head home.”

“Sounds good to me,” she looked tired as she moved, slow but steady.  

They walked out the front door into the cooling night. The second moon was in the sky now, illuminating the countryside as the stars twinkled above them. They walked in silence, the only noise the gravel crunching beneath their feet. 

Mara’s arms were wrapped around herself as they walked and Cullen noticed she was shivering slightly. Without a second thought he shrugged out of his jacket and placed the jacket on her shoulders. 

Mara looked up at him surprised, “Oh...thank you, but what about you? Won’t you be cold?”

Cullen smiled, “No. I’ll be fine.”

She pulled the jacket a little closer to her, “Thank you.”

“Wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to let you freeze to death,” he said. 

“I would not freeze to death, it’s not  _ that _ cold,” Mara argued. 

“If we judge by your hands, you’re just a few degrees away from freezing,” he teased. Even in the darkness he was sure she was scowling. 

“The cold doesn’t usually bother me.”

“But tonight?”

“I used enough of my mana that I’m a little cold,” she admitted. 

“Was his bone that bad?” 

“No, I just wanted to numb it as much as I could and make sure it was as healed as I could get it.” Most healings he’d witnessed were quick and practical, but he wasn’t surprised with the care Mara took. 

“Thank you.” It wasn’t just for the healing, it was for everything. For being so willing to help with the harvest, for being friends with them, for everything. 

“For what?” she turned to him. 

“For healing him. For caring about my family.” 

Mara paused, “Your family has been good to me.”

He swallowed hard, “I know I asked you earlier, but everyone was around. You’re really okay? After all those idiotic women said?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d heard worse,” Mara shrugged and the truth of her admission made him angrier than he could say. That anyone would treat her differently for being an elf was ridiculous, and yet he understood it. He recognized guiltily that he’d often felt the same way about mages. 

“Does it bother you?” she stopped suddenly turning towards him, watching him in the moonlight. 

“What?” he asked. 

“That I’m an elf, that I’m a mage,” she said quietly. The weight of her question was not lost on him, and he owed her nothing but the truth. 

“No,” he looked down at her, “Once, you being a mage would have. But I’m not that man anymore. At least I’m trying very hard not to be him.”

“For what it’s worth, I like who you are now,” she resumed walking so he couldn’t see her face. He could feel the burn in his cheeks. She almost definitely didn’t mean anything by her comment, but despite every bit of sense he had his heart soared the whole way home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They should just kiss already? Right? Anyways, thanks for reading! What'd you think?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the Festival dawns bright and cheerful, but the events of the day are anything but happy. A disturbing discovery is made, that might just change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note : While the Inquisition sided with the mages in this particular world state, I refuse to believe that Barris wouldn't have led faithful Templars out of Therinfal Redoubt to join the Inquisition.

Mara walked to the estate from Mia’s house. Meandering along the same road she and Cullen had wandered the night before and she couldn’t help but smile. Couldn’t help but remember the dancing, him offering his jacket to her, how he’d said he didn’t care about her being an elf, or a mage. Even when she tried not to, she wound up smiling. She wanted to scream at herself, for being so totally and utterly ridiculous. She’d already decided that nothing could come of this. But everything about last night seemed to be pushing them together. And while she’d at first just simply believed he danced with her because his siblings were being so pushy, the song had slowed and neither of them had let go. She’d been too lost in his amber eyes to have done anything but let him lead her around the dance floor. 

She pulled her jacket closer to her body as she walked, she needed to get a grip on herself. She’d gone to check on Liam this morning, just as the sun appeared over the hills. She’d gone early, anxious to ensure Liam was going to be alright. But she’d misjudged the temperature, it was as if the Firelight Festival had ushered in autumn overnight. The trees were smatterings of gold, red and orange. Leaves were slowly falling around the trunks. 

She could hear a horse galloping on the path and she looked back to the road, to see Barris riding towards her. Her blood ran cold. Something was wrong, that much was obvious. 

“Mara!” Barris called as he slowed the horse. 

“What’s wrong?” she hurried towards him. 

Barris looked distressed, “It’s Nathaniel. Something is wrong. We need to go.” 

She nodded and he held out his hand, she took it and swung up into the saddle behind him. He checked to make sure she was on before the horse surged back towards the estate. The wind whipped around them and stole any words she might have been able to manage.

Her mind raced through every scenario, what might be wrong, trying to prepare herself for what she’d find. Perhaps they were overreacting? Maybe he was just sick from indulging the night before at the Festival?  

As soon as they were through the gate Mara leapt down and rushed inside, Barris on her heels. She found Cullen, Beatrice and Gregory in the infirmary. Nathaniel was laying on a bed, face pale. Cullen’s eyes met hers, a cacophony of worry behind them. But there was something else in the room, she could feel its presence pushing down on her. Felt the air pushed from her lungs. 

“You’re here,” Cullen seemed relieved, “Something….something is wrong.”

She didn’t respond, couldn’t find the words. She moved forward and they parted for her, giving her access to Nathaniel. The second she touched his skin, she knew what it was, her stomach twisting as the realization came. His skin was on fire, and when she pressed her magic into him, searching for what might be wrong. She could sense it there. The same presence she’d noticed in the room hovering just under his skin. It didn’t so much have a feeling to it as it did a sound. She’d heard it described as a song by those who’d ingested it, but it didn’t sound like a song to her, it sounded sick, like death. The noise of it sent her heart pounding, she bit down on her fear and prayed she was wrong. 

“Nathaniel!” she put her hand on his face, trying to rouse him.

He stirred and she instinctively moved back, she still remembered what it felt like for him to Silence her, and if she was right, his abilities would be amplified. When his eyes opened there was no more denial in her heart. His eyes glowed red, the unmistakable hue that still haunted her dreams. She’d seen the red taint and corruption within the healer’s tent and had fought men twisted by it. Her chest felt tight as she stared down at Nathaniel in the grips of fear. 

There was an audible intake of breath in the infirmary and Barris took a step back, moving from Nathaniel like he was on fire. Cullen’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move. She could feel the rage rolling off of him in waves. That fire within him that was never quite far from the surface.  

“Maker’s breath, how?” Cullen looked at her, eyes dark and voice low. 

Nathaniel lay prone on the bed, looking between them. Mara turned to him, “Where did you get it?”

“Get what?” Nathaniel asked groggily. 

Mara was about to prod him more when Cullen exploded next to her, “THE RED LYRIUM YOU ASS. WHERE DID YOU GET IT?” Cullen was on him in a moment, hands digging into his tunic pulling him up off the bed as he snarled. 

“Red lyrium?” Nathaniel looked terrified as he pawed at Cullen’s unrelenting arms. 

“Yes, you complete and utter fool,” Cullen growled, shaking him as he spoke. Mara moved then taking Cullen’s arm to get him to let go of Nathaniel. 

“No! It can’t be, I just bought a philter of lyrium….just one….it couldn’t have been....” Cullen dropped him roughly on the bed, giving into her insistence. 

“Couldn’t even make it a full month! You just gave in at the first chance you could. You are weak.”

“The lyrium, could it have been contaminated?” Mara turned to Cullen. 

Cullen’s rage continued to bend his words, “I’m sure it is.” But he turned back to Nathaniel, “Did you even realize what you were doing? All that you were throwing away?”

There were tears in Nathaniel’s eyes, “I didn’t know! It sounded a little funny to me, the song wasn’t right, but I didn’t care.”

“Of course you didn’t you-” 

“Hey!” She grabbed Cullen’s arm, turning him to face her instead of Nathaniel, his eyes still narrowed in anger, “This isn’t helping, go!” She pushed him towards the doors. 

“You’d defend him? He’ll have to go through the withdrawal process all over again. Did you forget what he did? How he hurt you the last time?” 

Nathaniel’s eyes widened, “What?”

His voice was booming when he spoke and Mara flinched as his fury was unleashed, “You Silenced her when she tried to help you. She hit her head. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“I...I didn’t….know,” Nathaniel stuttered as Cullen towered over him. 

Her own anger flared then, and she moved between Cullen and Nathaniel but struggled to keep her voice even, “Get out of my infirmary.” 

Cullen’s eyes blazed as he stared down at her in utter disbelief, she could see his jaw clench. She could have sworn she could feel the blood boiling under his skin as he looked at her. 

“Now,” she pointed towards the doors, unmoving. She wondered for a moment if he might disregard her and stay, but he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. She looked at the silent audience to their exchange and glared. They quietly filed out, silent glances passed between them, but she didn’t care.  

She took a deep breath and turned back to Nathaniel, his eyes wide with fear at what had just taken place. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, as he leaned back against the pillows hands covering his face.

She sunk down on the edge of his bed, limbs suddenly heavy. He looked truly pitiful, the strong Templar of the last few weeks reduced to this crying mass. There was no time to fall apart right now, so she asked questions, “Can you tell me more about who you got this lyrium from?”

Nathaniel’s chest heaved as he lowered his hands, red eyes confused as they looked into hers, “There was a man. He found me, asked me if I wanted to buy it. As soon as he pulled it out, I could hear it and it was just too much. He charged me almost nothing for it.”

“What did he look like?” 

“It was dark….I wasn’t paying attention. He was shorter than me, with a dark beard. That’s all. I was too focused on the lyrium,” Nathaniel admitted. 

She searched his face, the usual tough facade completely gone. So she asked the question quietly, “Why did you take it?”

“I reasoned that I’d just take some, keep it with me. Just in case, you know. I put it in a drawer, but then sat up all night staring at it until I just snapped. I’m….I’m so sorry. I had no idea...about the Silencing...I don’t remember it.”

She sighed, “I know, you weren’t yourself.”

“But you never said, you never….treated me differently,” Nathaniel breathed. 

“You didn’t need to know,” she whispered, she’d believed it when it happened, still believed it now. 

“Now I have to go through it all over again? Like the last few weeks never happened?” he looked at her forlornly. 

She bit her lip as she considered how to answer, knowing Cullen would never approve of the question she was about to ask, “Is that what you want? Do you want to be back on lyrium?”

“I...what?” his face was confused he ran a hand through his dark hair as he considered what she was asking. “Is there a future for me if I go back on it?” 

“Not a good one. You’ll eventually lose your mind, everything that makes you who you are would disappear. We would take care of you until….until it killed you,” Mara said gently, “but you know what it is to live without it. It’ll never be easy. No matter what, there are consequences.”

“I wish I never became a Templar,” he said simply. 

The full weight of his actions settled on him, and she watched the torrent of emotions he passed through, “You can’t change what’s past.” 

“I don’t want to lose my mind, but I don’t know if I can do this.”

She quietly took his hand in hers, “That’s why we’re here. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“And if I fail again?”

“Then we start over. As many times as you want.”

He nodded, “The red lyrium?”

She considered for a moment, “I’m not sure how much you ingested to be quite honest. It couldn’t have been much. But even a little…” 

“What can we do?” 

“Wait for it to leave your system. It may make the withdrawals worse,” she amended, “it’ll definitely make the withdrawal worse.”

“Cullen’s not going to throw me out?”

She was confused, “Why would we throw you out?”

Nathaniel looked at her, in disbelief, “I broke the rules, that’s what the Chantry would have done.”

“We’re not the Chantry.” 

“I will try not to hurt you again, I never meant that. I never wanted that,” his admission hung in the air between them, heavy like her limbs as she tried to remember how to move again. 

“You’ll need to remain here, in the infirmary for foreseeable future. I need to go speak  with someone in town, see if we can track this merchant,” she stood, Nathaniel’s red eyes closed as he nodded. 

She walked to her desk and pulled out a sleeping draught, the red lyrium would cause paranoia and other side effects that would make things difficult. It’d probably be best to sedate him, and as he hadn’t slept much the night before, sleep was not a bad idea. 

She handed him the draught, “Drink this.” He complied, eyes heavy as he handed the vial back to her. He was asleep by the time she had put the vial on her desk and walked back to his bed. She wrapped her arms around herself as she looked around the room feeling completely and utterly alone. She walked through the hallway, pausing at the door to Cullen’s office. 

She steeled herself before entering. She knew he was in there because she could hear him pacing, the movement of the floorboards as he walked. His thundering footfalls echoed into the hallway. She pushed the door open and at the movement his head whipped around and he stopped in his tracks. The anger was still evident in everything from his stance to the way he looked at her, but there was a level of despair in his honey colored eyes. 

“He got it from a merchant at the festival. Probably long gone by now if he has any sense,” she said as she slipped through the door, closing it softly behind her.  

Cullen’s eyes narrowed, “He took it of his own volition.”

“Yes,” she agreed. 

He resumed pacing, “His weakness puts all of them in danger. He’s a coward.”

Mara placed her hands on her hips and sighed in frustration, “It does nothing to dwell on what happened. We can only move forward.”

“You’re acting strangely cavalier about all of this. Have you forgotten what he did last time?” he pointed to the infirmary as his voice rose higher in volume. 

“Of course not! But I don’t see anything gained in making him feel terrible about it. He’s already beating himself up over the relapse,” she fought to keep her voice level, to maintain the careful control she had over her emotions. 

“It’s not enough! He needed to know what he did, what you’re risking to help him!” his voice was tainted with rage, a roar in the quiet that was his office. 

“It was not yours to tell,” Mara said angrily, feeling the burn of tears in the corners of her eyes. 

He faltered a little then, but continued, “Wasn’t it? After he Silenced you, you fell apart right in front of my eyes. How is that not mine as well? I can’t….I can’t see that again.”

“You won’t,” she vowed, and wasn’t sure if it was for her sake or his. 

He ran a hand through his hair in agitation, “How can you be so calm about this?”

She could feel her magic reacting to her anger, tensing and coiling. She knew she was anything but calm, “You never considered this as a scenario? That just maybe one of these men might relapse?”

“They’re better than this!” Cullen’s voice rose again. 

She shook her head, “It doesn’t matter how good they are! This is the reality in dealing with addiction, Cullen. It doesn’t just go away!” 

“I know that, I know that better than anyone,” his words were filled to the brim with bitterness. 

“Do you?” she threw the words at him, her anger twisting within her, “Do you really? Because you of all people should understand how hard it is not to give in. You should be the one understanding, not me. I shouldn’t have to physically pull you off of our charges.”

Cullen didn’t respond, and she could see his anger was cooling. Cullen’s anger burned, bright, hot and fast. He was far too practical to remain angry forever, and she knew that but he had to see the reality of what they were dealing with, even if it was painful. She respected Cullen, but he could not see that his self-control was unique. 

“I’m going into town to speak with my contact in the Guard. See if maybe they can find anything out,” she said. 

He nodded, not looking away from her. His anger may be cooling, but she was sure he could see the fury burning in her eyes. 

“Try not to undo any more of our work while I’m gone?” The words slipped out before she could stop them and she turned away so she could not see the hurt in his eyes her words would undoubtedly cause. Her heart hung heavy as she walked into the hallway. She was met by Barris and Gregory’s worried faces. They’d probably heard every word. She needed to leave this house, they probably did too. 

“I’m running an errand in town, would you like to join me?” she asked, voice even as if it hadn’t just been raised. 

Barris and Gregory nodded. 

“Where’s Beatrice?” she looked down the hallway. 

“Went outside to hit something,” Barris said, and Mara wished she could join her, release the too tightly coiled anger that still settled in her chest. 

Gregory and Barris followed her soundlessly out into the bright sunlight of the day. It was ironic wasn’t it? That the day should be so beautiful when everything inside the estate seemed to be under an oppressive shroud of darkness. It was supposed to be a place of safety and healing, but Mara wondered if they would ever escape the darkness long enough for it to be so.  

They walked in silence, the only sound the movement of their feet along the well-worn path. The tempest within her had calmed as they walked, regret replacing it along with a worry for both Barris and Gregory. 

“Will he be alright?” Gregory asked quietly. 

She didn’t need to ask who he was referring to, “I think so. It’s going to be really hard though, probably harder than the withdrawals the first time.”

The sunlight made his hair look even more pale, and his grey eyes were earnest, “I’ll help any way I can.”

She was touched as they walked. Mara had felt that her and Gregory got along well, he was a sensitive soul, quieter than the rest. Cullen was more apt to push him forward, but she saw that he needed to move at his own pace and had been his advocate. They didn’t always talk much, but he often sat in the same room as she read or worked with her herbs. 

“Thank you.”

“Actually, I wanted to speak with you about that as well,” Barris said, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“Oh?” she turned to Barris. 

He kept his eyes on the road as they walked, “I have an open invitation to join Seeker Pentaghast and the Seekers of Truth. But I wonder if there would be work here if I wanted to stay on, help run the estate?”

“You want to work at the estate instead of becoming a Seeker?” she asked, truly surprised. 

“I believe I would be quite happy, if there was need, of course,” he said. 

Barris fell back on formality when he was nervous, she’d learned that. Something he’d picked up as a Templar and carried it over into every other aspect of his life. 

She smiled, “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Having another person who knows what it is to deal with lyrium addiction can’t hurt.”

“You think so?” he asked hopefully. 

“Would you like me to speak with Cullen about it?” 

“Yes, thank you,” Barris looked relieved, “but perhaps it might be best to wait a day or two?”

She laughed in spite of herself, in spite of everything that had happened, “Yes, perhaps you’re right.”

She turned to Gregory, “What about you? What do you want to do when you’re done here?” It wasn’t something she’d asked much about. Thinking of the future could be dangerous, but today they all needed something to look forward to. A beacon through the dark night. 

Gregory frowned, “I….don’t know. No one has ever asked me that before.”

“Really?”

“I was promised to the chantry when I was a small child. When the Circles fell I followed Barris in joining the Inquisition, and then Seeker Pentaghast sent us here. I’ve never thought about what I wanted to do beyond my duty.”

Mara’s heart ached for him. There was plenty wrong in her own life, she’d felt compelled to leave many a place. But ultimately she always had some choice in the matter, some semblance of control over her own life. And to only experience that now? She couldn’t fathom it. 

“You’ve never really been free,” Mara said, it wasn’t a question. 

“Duty was more important,” Gregory replied. 

“The only duty you have now is to yourself,” she tried to sound encouraging. 

Gregory’s eyes looked off into the horizon. He looked tired, worn down, “We’ll see.”

Their small group approached the town square, evidence of the night before lingered everywhere. Booths sat, half torn down amongst the trash that the breeze blew across the square. The stage that had been erected stood solemnly empty while lanterns were being taken down, strand by strand. She wondered if the ruins of the day might be so easily put back to order as the square in front of them. If when they returned, she could clean up the mess she’d left behind. The weight of of it all hung heavy on her shoulders, she needed to fix it all. She needed to stay strong for everyone else, but wondered if there was anyone left to be strong for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! Thoughts?  
> P.S. All of the lovely comments on the last chapter made my entire week! Especially all of the calls for them to kiss already. :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel's relapse seems to affect everyone in different ways.

Cullen read the letter in front of him several times through before he gave up, realizing he wasn’t retaining a damn thing. He threw it down on his desk and sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. He could feel the faint pulse of a headache behind his eyes, a product of the argument perhaps an hour old. 

His anger had long since burnt out, but her words replayed in his mind, over and over. Her words had cut him deep, they’d both been aiming to hurt. But why did he feel like the only one who walked away wounded? He knew her comment about undoing the work here was said in anger, when she’d finally let go of the careful control she always seemed to have over her emotions. Knowing she’d been angry when she said it didn’t stop it from stinging, but it was the two words she’d said earlier that stuck with him now. “You won’t.” 

He’d put his feelings out there, held them up to her in an offering when he told her he couldn’t see her go through what she had when she’d been Silenced again. That wasn’t sure he could stand to see her so hurt, and so broken again. Because things had changed for them, and he was sure it would break him if she unraveled. “You won’t.” Flat, sure, biting. 

He pushed out of his chair, walking to the infirmary to check on Nathaniel. Mara had given him a sedative, he’d seen the empty vial sitting on her desk earlier. An act of mercy for all of them, buying them a little more time before they really had to face this head on. So he’d made a nervous circuit every so often, checking to make sure Nathaniel still slept, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He could see Beatrice out the window, hear the rhythmic thud of her sword against the practice dummy. It reminded him of Cassandra, and with a pang she wished she was here. Even if it was only to tell him how big of an idiot he was. 

He walked back to his office, the emptiness of the house a grim reminder that everything was not as it should be. 

Mara, Gregory and Barris returned in the early afternoon. Cullen had left his office door open, listening for them to return. Mara walked past his open door straight for the infirmary. He was unsure if he should follow. Barris and Gregory had paused in the foyer, unsure what to do or where to go. They didn’t speak when Cullen walked out, his gaze shifting to the infirmary. Barris gave him a slight nod and moved towards the stairs, Gregory in tow.  

She was bent over Nathaniel who still slept, and Cullen felt the cold prickle of her magic. He recognized it now, the cool twist of it. Each mage’s magic felt different and hers had it’s own signature that was so thoroughly her. Her eyes were closed as she worked, using her magic to heal and test. The infirmary felt cold despite the bright sunlight casting patches of light on the floor through the windows. They’d placed Nathaniel in the bed furthest away from her desk, and he tried to remember if that was a conscious decision or not. He cleared his throat to announce his presence.  

She straightened, looking at him expectantly.

“Did you find out anything?”

Mara walked towards him, tucked her blonde hair behind one ear, “No, but they’re going to keep an eye out, let us know if they find anything.” 

“They didn’t have much to go on,” he said.

“They didn’t…” she agreed, looking away from him.

He rubbed his neck fighting the urge to leave the room, “Is he going to be alright?” 

She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, “I don’t know.”

Both their gazes fell to the figure on the bed, but after a moment he looked back at her. Mara’s eyes seemed sad in a way he couldn’t place, as if there was a weight on her shoulders, “I told Barris and Gregory it would be fine.” 

“You did?” he asked, wondered what it was that kept her from feeding him the comforting lies. 

“We’ll wait to see if it leaves his system.”

“And if it doesn’t leave his system?” he asked, afraid he already knew the answer. 

She kept her gaze fixed on Nathaniel, her brow furrowed, “A merciful knife.” The words dropped between them, as sharp as the knife that might be needed to slit Nathaniel’s throat. 

“How much time did you spend at the field hospital in the Arbor Wilds?” she asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Enough,” he said gruffly. He’d avoided the hospitals and healing tents where he could, too much pain there. The men dying within the canvas tents weighed heavily on him, he could never bring himself to stay inside them long. It was his duty as commander to be there, and he hadn’t been there enough for his men. The smell and the blood reminded him too much of Kinloch, of watching his friends die around him. Maker, he was a coward. There had always been so much to do, he’d wondered if it had been wrong to stay within his tent working when he should have been with them. But then he’d return to the stack of letters on his desk, one for each fallen soldier and he didn’t wonder long. 

“We made that very call too many times to count, but I never….I could never...not even when it was a mercy. If you wait too long it’s nigh impossible, the red lyrium gives them strength beyond any normal man’s. But if you don’t wait long enough that means there’s still a part of them that’s still them,” there were tears in her eyes as she spoke. She paused and bit her lip, but she still wouldn’t look at him. 

She crossed her arms, holding them to her, like she was holding herself together, “There was so much we didn’t understand at first. When a limb is infected beyond our ability to save it, you amputate. Red lyrium spreads like a poison, slowly through the body. We’d amputate and the soldier believed they were saved, only to succumb to it anyways.” 

He’d never spent much time concerned with how things had been run in the healer’s tents. He’d trusted them to do their job, to save as many as they could, and ease the pain for those they couldn’t. The battle that had raged around the Temple of Mythal had been just as fierce behind the front lines the healers had fought just as hard trying to keep men and women alive, combatting the red lyrium and the overwhelming amount of death. He knew the numbers, wounded, lost, missing; he could still recall them. He had rarely asked what had killed his soldiers, all too aware of the casualties of war. He didn’t respond, stood there within the infirmary, the distance between them seemingly growing. 

“I can hear the song fading. It’s not as loud when I touch him,” she said wiping her cheeks, “so the big question becomes how?”

He nodded, “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it as well. The Inquisition did their best to contain all known locations. Who would get close enough to it to do this?”

Mara moved her hands to her hips, shoulders slumping, “I don’t know. Maybe the Guard can help us. Do you have any other contacts that might be more helpful?”

Sera immediately came to mind. Her contacts within the Red Jennies would likely be able to find out more than a small Guard that would have to obey policies and sift through red tape. He’d write immediately, Sera hated red lyrium almost as much as Varric and would definitely help. 

“I do,” he said. 

“Then we wait,” Mara said, a tinge of dejection coloring her voice. They stood in silence for a moment, and then she turned to him, “I...about earlier.”

His heart thudded, “Yes?” He’d wondered if she’d just forget it, pretend it hadn’t happened. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Didn’t want to hear more about how incompetent he was.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” Mara looked at the floor, her gaze flicked back up to him, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, wanting to do something, anything, but stand there looking at her uselessly. 

She frowned, eyes stormy, “Is it? Fenehdis Cullen, we can’t be against each other like that, not when there’s so much that depends on us.”

“I’m quite sure I deserved everything you said and more for my outburst,” he muttered. 

Suddenly, she was there, against him, arms wrapped around his torso.The side of her face was pressed against his chest, she didn’t even come up to his chin. He stood there for a moment, unsure what was happening, before he wrapped his arms around her in an embrace. 

She smelled like sunlight and trees and brightness. She was here, tangible, in his arms. And for a moment he forgot everything that was so broken around them, with them. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured against him, and he wanted to pull her closer, hold her tighter. Chase away every bad dream and pain they’d both felt and inflicted. 

“I know,” he whispered into her hair. Taking comfort in her presence, but wondering if he should have let her go by now. 

She trembled a little beneath his touch, “We can’t afford to fight.” 

“I’m sorry,” he wasn’t sure what else he could say, except that he hadn’t ever prepared for anything like this. For it to be this difficult.

“I know,” they echoed each other’s words as she pulled back, putting distance between them again. He wanted to protest, but bit it back. 

“We move forward?” he asked, trying to sound hopeful. 

She sighed, looking back over Nathaniel’s sleeping form, “All we can do.” 

“Let’s make a plan.” Together. 

***

Three days later Nathaniel was still deep in withdrawal, but with the added paranoia that so often accompanied red lyrium exposure. His eyes no longer glowed red, but they might have for all of the trouble he caused. He awoke screaming about invisible enemies, trying to fight demons only he could see and refused help. 

There hadn’t been any major incidents, but Mara kept him and everyone else out of the infirmary as if Nathaniel was being quarantined. She bore the brunt of work in helping Nathaniel. She’d taken to sleeping in the infirmary, only taking true breaks when he came and forced her to take a break, and she never allowed that as much as she should have. But his anger was so close to the surface when caring for Nathaniel, that it was his choices that had brought them all to this point allowed the anger to simmer. He found he could hardly fight Mara on being in the infirmary more when he was sure his feelings were obvious. 

That afternoon, he walked into the infirmary and found Gregory was there as well. He’d been withdrawn the last few days, more than usual. Cullen had expressed his concern to Mara, and now Gregory seemed to be the only person she allowed in the infirmary for any length of time. 

She was mixing herbs, grinding dried leaves and working at the table near her desk. Gregory sat in the infirmary, reading a book, both to her and Nathaniel. Cullen recognized the worn blue of the cover, it was a book from his childhood.

“He ran the stone over in his hands, holding it close. It was precious and he would protect it, whatever the cost,” Gregory read. Cullen remembered reading the story over and over again as a child, escaping to the world within it. He’d imagined himself as the protagonist, acting out the book with his siblings. 

Gregory paused his reading as Cullen entered, and the pause made Mara look up too. “Don’t stop on my account,” Cullen smiled, “it’s one of my favorites.”

Gregory nodded, and continued to read. He padded over to Mara, “Tell me what to do.”

She looked at him, seemed to be scrutinizing him before she spoke, “Grind these, fine powder.” She pressed the mortar and pestle into his hands, and pointed him to some dried royal elfroot leaves on the table. He immediately got to work, the smell of the elfroot filling his senses. 

At the chapter break Gregory paused, “I think he’s asleep.” He leaned from his bed to look at Nathaniel. 

“Perhaps we’ll continue when he wakes?” Mara said quietly. 

Gregory nodded, setting the book on the bed, “Do you need more herbs?”

Mara looked over the table, “Some more embrium, and crystal grace if we have it?”

“I’ll be back,” he said, standing up. 

“Thank you,” she smiled. Gregory left the room and her worried gaze followed him.  

“How is he?” Cullen asked, keeping his voice low. 

Mara didn’t stop working, “Nathaniel or Gregory?”

“Gregory.”

She nodded, “I’m not sure. Nathaniel’s relapse seems to weigh on him more than the others. I’m not sure if coming in here helps him or not. But he seems to enjoy reading to us.”

“Maybe when Nathaniel is better…” Cullen’s words drifted away.

“So, I’m assuming you didn’t just come in here to grind herbs,” Mara looked up at him. 

Cullen smiled, “I’m not sure why you’d assume that.”

“Well you’ve really obliterated those leaves,” Mara nudged him playfully.

“You win. I received two very interesting letters today,” Cullen said, continuing to move the pestle in rhythmic motions. 

“Oh?” Mara raised an eyebrow. 

“It seems that a very rich Arl intends to send us quite the sizeable endowment. Probably Leliana’s doing,” Cullen began, “Cassandra also has six more templars who want to come here.”

Mara stopped, turning to him, “And you think we’re ready for that?” She looked slightly alarmed. 

“The two were connected, we can hire some additional help,” Cullen suggested. 

“Six?” Mara gripped the table in front of her, “Cullen, we barely survived four.”

“We’d have more help this time,” Cullen said hopefully. 

“How soon?” she asked. 

“A month or so.”

“Barris,” Mara said, as if remembering something, “He wants to stay. Work here.” He was surprised, he was aware of Cassandra’s offer to him. 

“Cassandra might rightly kill me if I let him,” Cullen crossed his arms. 

“He has just as much staked in our success here as we do,” Mara explained, “it can’t hurt to have another successful person for them to look to. Besides, he was an officer, they already look to him.”

“He’s barely off lyrium himself, you think it’s a good idea?” he asked.

“Weren’t you running the Divine’s armies when you were barely two weeks off of lyrium?” Mara raised an eyebrow.

He sighed, “Fair point.”

Mara smiled having won the battle, “You should tell him yourself.”

“And you? A few healers to assist?” 

“Leon won’t forgive me if I steal to many of his healers, but there never seems to be enough work at the hospital to keep the bills paid. I know a few healers that might want to pick up extra work here,” Mara said thoughtfully. 

“Cassandra wants to come here, after we get the next group through the worst of withdrawals,” Cullen said. He was excited to see her, it’d been too long. 

Mara looked out into the infirmary, a little warily, “Alright, we’ll be ready.”

“We’ll have to be,” Cullen agreed as he returned his attention to the mortar and pestle and grinding the leaves into a fine powder. They would be ready, despite the setback with Nathaniel, they would be ready. He’d make sure of it. 

***

The nightmares had been worse lately, much worse. Gregory’s were the most frequent. It’d been a week and a half since Nathaniel had relapsed, Mara said the red lyrium was gone from his system, but had kept him in the infirmary anyway. Most likely because she knew how much he was up each night with the others. 

There was a certain predictability with Gregory. It always began the same, a strangled cry in the night that roused Cullen from sleep. He’d always been a light sleeper, but now his subconscious listened for the tell-tale signs of nightmares haunting the dreams of those in his care.

He pulled himself out of bed, the floor was cold under his bare feet. The air in the dark house was chilled as he entered Gregory’s room. He was still asleep, thrashing around, sheets fisted in his hands. 

“You can’t make me do it,” he sobbed, “I won’t do it. I won’t.”

Cullen approached cautiously, placing his hands on his shoulders he shook him, “Gregory, wake up.” 

Gregory’s eyes opened and he looked around the room blindly. Cullen waited for him to find his way back to reality, waited for the Fade to loosen its grip on him. Cullen was patient, he’d fought his way back too many times to count. It was a slow process some nights, and so he sat patiently, hands on his shoulders, waiting. 

He came back with a broken sob, “It was a dream.” Gregory curled in on himself and crying into his pillow with abandon. Cullen settled himself on the floor, could feel the cool of the floorboards seeping up into his skin as he sat his hand on Gregory’s arm. The quiet stillness of the night only seemed to exist outside the room. 

“It was a dream,” Cullen replied, trying to ground him with his words. 

The room was simple, very little changed from when he and his siblings had set it up. There were books on the dresser, Gregory’s possessions tucked neatly in the dresser on the far side of the room. He could feel Gregory trembling under his hand and he knew there was nothing more he could do. 

He shifted a little bringing his knees up to his chest, and leaning forward to alleviate the strain on his back from being in one position for so long. Gregory had quieted down, but still he stayed. He always stayed, keeping watch. A sentinel in the night. He wasn’t a healer, but this was something he could do. So he would give it his all. He dozed next to Gregory’s bed until the inky blackness of the sky outside the window turned blue and then he crept back to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is a little on the shorter side, but the next one will more than make up for it. Thanks for reading! As always I am anxious to hear what you think!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the tags once more, because some warnings were definitely needed for this chapter. TW: Suicide. Read safely, my friends.

It was properly autumn in South Reach. Frost clung delicately to the leaves and windows, and the grass crunched underfoot in the mornings. Mara had to cast warming spells to keep her herbs going, to combat the first signs of winter that appeared overnight, but the days were still warm and the sun shined. The leaves fell from the trees around them, and soon the only true vibrant green along the countryside was the pine trees. She’d never welcomed the change of seasons like she did then, and there was something lovely in the crispness of the air. 

She had been attempting to work, but Cullen had come into the infirmary and she couldn’t kid herself into believing he wasn’t a distraction. So she’d stood up from her desk, to see what he was glowering at outside of the window. 

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Cullen said, rolling his head towards her as he gestured out the window. Barris and Rosalie were walking around the garden. They weren’t touching, but they were close as they walked together. 

Mara laughed as she stood next to him, “And here I thought you weren’t the protective older brother type.” She found the way he was glaring out the window rather endearing.  

“I….just….look at them!” he said exasperatedly. 

“Mmmmmhmmm,” she shook her head, “you know, they might be good for each other.”

“Seems rather convenient. You convince me to keep Barris on and then this happens,” Cullen rounded on her, he wasn’t really angry, she could see that in his eyes. 

“Commander, I’m shocked. What exactly are you insinuating?” Mara teased. He was taller than her and close, but she crossed her arms and didn’t back away. 

“Fraternization,” he drug out the word, pronouncing each syllable, bending a little closer to her. 

She raised an eyebrow. He clarified, “With my sisters.”

“You’re still just sore over the whole hair incident,” she smirked, tilting her head. 

“I am not!” he retorted, wincing at the realization that his immediate response gave him away. Mara dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

A week or so ago, after Nathaniel had begun feeling better she’d assisted Mia and Rosalie in stealing Cullen’s hair product out of his room. She still laughed at the way he’d stomped downstairs, hair in perfect ringlets, demanding they return it. He’d been met with the full force of their laughter and turned a rather hysterical shade of red before stalking back upstairs. He’d had to endure many a joke about it since the incident, and Mara would have felt bad about it if it hadn’t been so funny. 

When she looked back at him he was scowling at her and somehow that made the whole situation that much funnier. As she doubled-over, trying to catch her breath his serious expression melted into laughter as well. 

“That definitely rivals anything Sera ever did. I’ll have to find a way to get you back,” he chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 

She wiped the tears from her eyes as she regained control over herself, “I look forward to it.” She looked back out the window smiling a little at Rosie and Barris. 

“I think it’s nice,” she glanced up at Cullen and he met her gaze, amber on emerald. 

He sighed, “I do too, once I get around the fact it’s my sister.”

She squeezed his arm before returning to her desk, to the never-ending list of things that needed to be done before the next group arrived. She and Cullen had gotten much more comfortable in the last few weeks. Casual touches, the brushing of fingers, it did nothing but set her heart racing and cause her cheeks to flush. But she couldn’t shake an overwhelming feeling that seemed to creep up on her in moments like these. Home. The estate, Mia and Rosie, Cullen, they felt like home. It terrified her, and yet she was still here. 

“Afternoon training starting soon?” she asked. 

“Yes,” Cullen nodded. Nathaniel and Beatrice had announced their plans to join the Seekers just a few days after Nathaniel was back on his feet. He’d decided he needed something to work toward, to avoid another relapse. Cassandra seemed more than happy to have the both of them in Barris’s place, though her letter did have a certain air of annoyance that was hard to forget. They had begun training twice a day and between all of them she’d needed twice the number of elfroot potions as usual to alleviate sore muscles. 

Nathaniel and Beatrice would be leaving just after the next group of Templars arrived. It worked out, because it meant no one would need to double-up once the new group left the infirmary, but their presence when the new Templars arrived would likely be good for morale. Showing the new group that recovery was possible. That moving on was as well. 

She could see Cullen was frowning, guessed at his thoughts. He had been worrying a lot lately about getting Nathaniel and Beatrice ready for the Seekers, along with everything else they had on their shoulders. 

“You still have a few weeks with them,” Mara reminded. She heard him sigh as he sat down on the edge of one of the beds. 

“They’re not really the ones I’m worried about,” Cullen admitted. She knew who he was worried about, who they were all worried about. 

He lowered his voice, “Have you seen Gregory today?”

“Yes, said he wasn’t feeling well. I took him some tea and told him to stay in bed,” she explained. He’d looked paler than usual, but refused to let her do anything about it, said he just needed some rest and he’d be fine. 

Cullen frowned, “What else can we do?”

Mara was at a loss, “I don’t know.”

“He needs something to do, something to focus on besides the lyrium,” Cullen leaned his shoulders on his knees. Everyone else had found purpose, a plan forward, while Gregory floundered. They’d done their best, asking him what he wanted, but never pushing. While she was worried, she was sure that given time he’d find his path. 

Mara set down the paperwork she’d tried to return to, propping her head on her hands, “Maybe we talk to him, tell him how worried we are. Ask him how we can help?”

Cullen considered that for a moment, “Maybe? I don’t know what else might work.”

“When?” she asked. 

“Soon. Give him a few more days,” he ran a hand through his hair, pushed himself up from the bed and began pacing in front of her desk. 

“Maybe it’s just a bad couple of weeks, you said that happened to you,” Mara said helpfully. 

He nodded as he walked, worried eyes watching the floor. 

“Hey, if you’re going to pace, I’ll kindly remind you that you’ve got your own office for that,” Mara said over the list she’d picked up. 

She didn’t have to look up from her paper to know he was scowling. “What? You’ve got training to get started soon anyways.” She chanced a glance over to him, he’d stopped pacing and was looking at her and shaking his head slightly. She pressed her lips together to avoid breaking into a smile. 

Cullen was looking back at the window and rubbing his neck absently, “I’ll get Barris to extricate himself from my sister and have him see if Gregory feels up to joining us.”

“Don’t sound too disapproving when you order him around, you’ll just push Rosie into his arms,” Mara teased. 

“Like she’d ever listen to me anyways,” Cullen shook his head. 

“Maybe if you’d been more honest about your hair routine…?” Mara deadpanned. 

Cullen made a disgusted noise as he left the infirmary, her laughter following him out. She smiled as she looked back down to her work. Yeah, this place might just be home.  

***

“MARA!” the screams were coming from the stairs. She looked up from her desk, confused. But it came again, an unmistakable air of urgency and grief that had her running frantically, her soft boots sliding on the smooth floors. Barris met her at the stairs, face pale, tears streaming down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, stomach churning. Cullen was following, she could hear his movements behind her as she began up the stairs, he was taking them two at a time and she was rushing to avoid him running into her. 

Barris shook his head as they climbed, words failing him. Barris seemed deflated, shoulders sunk forward, his head down. She clung to the dark wood railing with white knuckles as they moved. It seemed to take an eternity to reach Gregory’s room, slow compared to how quickly she’d run from the infirmary. But finally, they were at the door, Barris stepped aside gesturing her forward and she wasn’t sure why she didn’t hesitate to enter. She pushed open the slightly ajar door, and then the overwhelming stench of blood hit her. She froze, limbs suddenly unmoving. Cullen bumped into her as she took in the scene before her. She heard him curse behind her and then deafening silence.

It took several moments before she stepped forward, before her feet moved uncertainly towards Gregory’s body. A porcelain cup from the tea she’d brought up earlier was smashed on the floor next to the bed and the only sound was the quiet dripping of blood running down his fingertips into crimson pools. He lay on the perfectly made bed, his sprawl of limbs a strange juxtaposition to the military neatness of the blankets below him. She pressed her fingers to the pulse point on his neck, checking needlessly for a pulse. He was dead. One look at his eyes had told her that. 

The eyes of the dead all look the same, they all have the same blank stare. Glazed over, lights gone out. She remembered at first, how it had shocked her. How she had searched desperately for a pulse, perhaps some last threads of life remained intact deep within the layers of muscle and bone, that if she buried her magic deep enough, in just the right place, they might come back. But she knew better now. 

So instead of panicking she pressed her fingers to his eyelids, closing them as she pronounced, “Dead.” She averted her eyes, looked away from his body. He was gone. She looked to Barris standing with his head down in the doorway, and Cullen, who stared at her in disbelief.

He stepped back, “No.” He shook his head, “No…..NO!” 

She closed her eyes, anchoring herself as she felt herself drifting in the sea of hurt and grief that had crashed into her. She opened her eyes, and met Cullen’s. Fuck. He looked at her as if she was the only person in the world who could fix this, as if he was waiting for her to wave her fingers and make everything alright again. 

But she couldn’t fix this. There is nothing here she could fix. 

Tears leaked from Cullen’s eyes and the grief that passed over his face broke whatever was left of her heart, “No, Gregory, no.” She picked at the hem of her tunic, bunching it so tightly her fingers ached. She could feel the unspoken questions he hurled at her. Why are you not doing something? Why are you not upset? What is wrong with you?

But she’d seen too much death and cried too many tears over their bodies to worry about one more added to the tally in her head. Oh how she used pray to whatever deity existed to never see another dead body again. That prayer had gone unanswered too many times for her to believe in anything anymore. She willed herself to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. 

The reality of their collective failure hung heavy between them as she tore her gaze away from Cullen, avoiding looking at Gregory. For all the good they were trying to do, they had failed him. Failed to see the warning signs, to help him sooner. They had failed, and he had slit his wrists alone in his room and watched as his own blood slowly drained from him. 

Another Templar’s face that would haunt her dreams. 

She jerked her head up at the shuffling of his feet. Cullen reached for a piece of parchment on the bedside table with shaking hands. She watched him as his eyes took in the words before he handed it to her and watched her intently as she read the hastily scrawled words. 

A thank you. An apology. Death was better than taking lyrium again. He wasn’t strong enough to hold out against it. It was the escape. Another apology.

She lowered the paper, eyes finding his, the pain on his face was evident, “He thought death was better than living without it.”

Mara picked her words carefully, “He chose death over going back to his old life.”

She held the note out, he wrenched it from her hands like she didn’t deserve it. She bent back over Gregory’s body, pressing her magic deep, erasing the deep cuts in his wrists. There was nothing to be done about the blood though, it’d need to be washed from him, scrubbed from the floorboards. It was like her healing magic, superficial. It could erase any trace of this from the room, but the memories would remain. She could heal cuts, banish physical pain, relieve sore muscles but she was useless in the face of this much guilt and hurt. What was even the point if she couldn’t fix the things that really mattered?

She didn’t realize how badly she was shaking until Cullen pulled her away from his body, long after she’d finished healing the wounds. Time had gotten away from her as she pressed magic into places that didn’t matter. Dead end after dead end, she kept pressing, to do something anything. It was futile and she knew it. 

“Mara?” Cullen turned her around to face him, and she couldn’t meet his eyes. She tried to find comfort in his touch, but she couldn’t feel it. Every nerve in her body was reaching, trying to feel the comfort she only found with him. A heavy numbness seemed to be seeping into her whole body, and then he let her go and there was nothing to feel.

“Barris and I will take care of this,” Cullen ordered, pressing her gently towards the door, “Keep the others out.”

She was aware of the passage of time, the vague notion that outside of the infirmary where she sat life continued. That Gregory’s body had been removed from the house, that Cullen’s family arrived, quiet and solemn as the rest of the house. Rosie sat with her for a long while, saying nothing. What could really be said? 

Mia brought her food she didn’t touch, and day turned to night around her and the flickering candles someone had the sense to light. She had just decided to collapse into her bed when she saw him, out on the steps, sitting alone in the quiet of the night. Through the same window they’d watched Barris and Rosalie out of earlier. Where they’d joked and teased and worried, completely unaware that upstairs Gregory was dying. 

She went out to meet him. The solitude of the day was beginning to feel far too much like a cage. And even if they said nothing, it’d be nice to at least not be alone. She was careful to make noise as she approached to warn him, give him the chance to send her away. But he didn’t, and she settled down next to him. Their shoulders were close, but not quite touching she could feel his body heat radiating next to her. She followed his gaze out to the horizon, the trees meeting the deep blue of the sky, there weren’t any stars out, she supposed it was fitting. 

They sat in silence for a while, he took a swig from the bottle in his hands and handed it off to her. She lifted it to her lips and hissed as the unfamiliar liquor burned her throat. 

“That’s terrible,” she coughed and handed it back. 

“All I had,” he murmured beside her, “Bull gave it to me.”

“So it’s Qunari. Explains the burning.” Perhaps another time it would have been funny, but the words left her lips, flat and dark. 

“It’s our fault,” his voice caught as he spoke. 

She couldn’t disagree, “It is.” She kept her eyes forward, knowing she would shatter under the guilt he carried if she looked into his eyes. She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin between them. 

“I just don’t understand,” Cullen admitted. 

“He didn’t see a way out. Death was better than relapsing,” she repeated the words of the letter. 

Cullen shifted beside her, “But it isn’t.”

“We’d been pushing him so hard to move on, and he couldn’t.”

“A far worse failure than going back on the lyrium,” Cullen hissed. 

“No,” she shook her head, “We don’t get to make that call. It was his choice, and he made it. I may not agree with it, but I don’t know what he was going through.”

His fists clenched, “I do and this is not better.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Mara tried to smother the anger in her voice, but it seeped out anyways, “Your self-control. It’s not that way for everyone else.”

“What?”

She brought herself to look at him, “Not everyone is you, Cullen. It’s harder for some people.” 

“Hard enough it would bring someone to kill themselves?” his voice rose in pitch. 

“Apparently so,” she said simply. 

Cullen sighed, “What he did….it was….”

“If you say ‘weak’ I will scream,” she interrupted. She felt stretched thin, pulled from all sides, like she might buckled under all of this at any moment. Resentment permeating her every thought all because Gregory made a different choice than Cullen had. 

“You’re not that different you know,” she spat. She took a deep breath, grasping at the control she was slowly losing.

Cullen’s eyes narrowed, “I chose to live.”

“Did you? I heard the rumors, the legendary commander who does the work of ten men. A shard of porcelain, working yourself to death, they’re the same,” she bit down on her lip as the words spill out. But it’s too late. 

“And yet I’m still here!” he roared, “I could have died in Kinloch, in Kirkwall, countless times as part of the Inquisition and yet I’m still here.”

“By your choice or did you just put it in your Maker’s hands?” and the words sounded so bitter even she could hardly believe them. 

“I know my sins, trusting in the Maker is not one of them,” he said with a quiet ferocity that cut into her soul. She’d crossed a line, there was likely no coming back from it, but she couldn’t bring herself to be sorry. 

They sat in silence and she knew he was slowly clamping down on his anger, regrouping before his next move. She knew she deserved it and so she didn’t move.  

Cullen mouth closed as he regarded her, “You barely reacted today.” It felt like an accusation. 

How could she explain that she felt so much pain and hurt that she wasn’t even sure how to react anymore? She’d always been lauded in the field for keeping a level head in events like these. But she hadn’t done that today, she’d just gone numb. 

“Maker Mara, do you feel anything? Weeks ago you cry in the infirmary after Nathaniel’s relapse, and today nothing,” Cullen’s words twist as he says them, bent by hurt and pain.

“Of course I feel,” she insisted, but her words falter just enough that she doesn’t even believe them. 

“Bull shit.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I do or don’t feel,” she yelled, but then more quietly “This is why I don’t put down roots. Why I don’t stay.” Why did she think she could stay? That she could make a difference, fix her wrongs by being here. All she did was make more wrongs, they’d never be wiped away. 

“No one is stopping you from leaving,” Cullen said, words bent by grief or anger and she wasn’t sure which. It didn’t matter. 

“Not even you?” she whispered, wishing she didn’t already know the answer. 

“Not even me,” his words fell heavy into the night, at her feet. And she was up and moving faster than she thought possible. She wondered if he might follow, stop her, but she knew the answer. She’d just gotten it from him. 

When she was inside she didn’t stop, ran right through to the front door and outside again. It was as if the icy wall that had kept her numb from all the hurt and pain of the day had finally broken. She felt it all, every last excruciating shard of it, burying deep within her skin. The weight of the day hit her all at once, it was almost too much to carry.  

So she ran, because that was all she could do. She didn’t stop when she reached the treeline of the forest, kept running even as the branches dug into the exposed skin of her face and arms. Her magic was a tempest just under her skin, fighting its way out. She ran until she couldn’t anymore, until her feet wouldn’t carry her any further, until her magic was so close to the surface that she felt she would burst. She collapsed onto her knees in a clearing. 

Sobs wracked her body as she knelt, the tears of the day finally falling. Her magic pulled at her, her skin stretched tight against it, and she needed it gone, needed it to leave her body. So she pushed, huge fragments of ice emerging around her in great blue streaks of light, pushed out of the ground without rhyme or reason. Snow fell, but it was the ice that smothered everything in its wake in the cool clasp of death. Frost snaked its way out from her in grasping tendrils, weaving along the ground. She could have been there for minutes or hours, she wasn’t sure how long she knelt as her magic spun out of control around her. When she finally opened her eyes she was spent, and everything was winter. All of the ice and numbness outside of her rather than buried within her. There was room enough to really feel the pain, and the finality of Gregory’s death. 

If Cullen saw her as unfeeling before, what would he think if he could see this? Proof of her mistake, the utter loss of control, that stood in crystalline hues, mocking her. She’d always been good at burying her emotions, icing them over, controlling them so they didn’t control her. That’s what Keeper Deshanna had always taught her. She’d always thought it was necessary, but what had it cost her?  

A single thought swirled through her mind, a whisper in the night. She doesn’t fight it. It’s time to leave. 

***

Both moons were high in the sky, a testament to the late hour, but she wasn’t sure where else to go, and she was freezing. She could see a light flickering in the front window and she hoped she’s not unwelcome. She walked up the steps and paused before she quietly knocked. 

It took a moment, but the door pulled open and she was brought face to face with Mia who was clutching her robe around herself. 

“Mara….what in Maker’s name are you doing here?” Mia looked at her concerned, hair tied back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. 

She stood in silence, words wouldn’t come. 

Rosie appeared at the door, clutched Mara’s hand, “You’re freezing! Get in here!”

Mara bowed her head, “I didn’t know where else to go.” The tears fell freely down her cheeks, she thought she’d be run dry, but her eyes seemed to be making up for the lack of tears earlier in the day. 

Mia ushered her inside, and the sisters wrapped her in a hug as her body heaved and shook from the sobs she thought were finished. She wasn’t even sure why the tears continued to flow. If it was over Gregory’s death or the loss of a home she never really had. But it all hurt and so she cried as Rosie and Mia wrapped her in a blanket until her tears ran dry. 

An hour or more passed before they helped her move to a bedroom where she collapsed on the bed and hoped the Fade would be kind to her. Hoped she might escape the awfulness of reality just for a while. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sad truth about those battling addiction is that they are six times more likely to commit suicide than the rest of the population. And I know that's a statistic from our world, but I figured that it would also apply here. Gregory's character was originally inspired by "Suicide in the Trenches" by Siegfried Sassoon, and though it's about WWI, I don't read it without thinking of Gregory and the simple soldier boy that Sassoon describes.   
> Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia and Cullen discuss what happened, Cullen makes a discovery that helps him understand and a funeral. TW: Mention of suicide.

That night Cullen didn’t dream of Kinloch or Kirkwall, he dreamt of Skyhold. Of his tower, the great hall, the view from the ramparts. At first it was beautiful, he was on the battlements overlooking the steep mountain valleys and snow was falling softly in the air. The longer he stayed, the more it became distorted, everything covered in red, broken porcelain under his bare feet. At the imagined pain he jolted awake, covered in a cold sweat, but thankful to find himself at the estate. It wasn’t real. He took several steadying breaths, and pushed himself out of bed. 

Sleep had been elusive, he was sure he hadn’t been able to get more than a few hours in. It was still dark outside, so he wandered down to his office and did what he was good at, working and pretending he didn’t need sleep. He worked long enough that the inky blackness of the sky faded to a pale blue morning outside his window. He tried not to notice the change. Continued to pretend that he wasn’t distracted, that he could keep his mind clear of  _ her _ , of her words. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry, lacking so much control with his words. He’d kept turning the conversation over in his mind, defending himself against her lancing words in phrases that would never make it out of his head. He had difficulty picking just exactly what it was about their argument that made him so angry. He supposed it may have been the timing of the whole thing, Gregory’s body just hours gone from the house and they were out in the garden throwing jabs at each other. 

The thought of Gregory brought images to his mind he’d rather forget. The pooling blood, broken porcelain, the way his eyes had stared empty at the ceiling, gone. He shook his head as if it might scatter the thoughts away from the forefront of his mind. He tried to return to his paperwork, but he heard the front door creak as it opened and his head shot up from the desk at the unexpected noise, and he began walking towards the foyer to see who it was. 

Mia stood in the doorway, looking tired, a basket it hand, “Cullen.” Her words were a soft greeting. 

“You’re here early,” he said, keeping his voice down. 

She nodded and stepped past him, walking to his office. He followed her, closing the door behind them. Voices carried well in the house and he wanted to let those within the house who could sleep, sleep. She settled on the couch, “How are you?”

“As well as can be expected,” he said diplomatically. He was dodging the question and she knew it.  

Mia’s eyes flashed a little at his response. She was, in that moment, every bit the older sister he remembered from his youth. She kept the oldest sibling card in her back pocket, playing it just often enough you never forgot. It was something Cullen hadn’t forgotten, something Branson had reminded him of when he had bothered to write. He’d been waiting for her to play it. He had a lot to answer for where his siblings were concerned, and yet there hadn’t been any sort of repercussions. He deserved them, and he knew it, he wondered if this was the moment his sister had waited for. He walked behind his desk almost instinctively, putting a barrier between him and his sister, “Do you know where Mara is?”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out her game, “Probably asleep. If not, she’s in the infirmary or the garden.”

“I know where she is, I asked if you knew,” Mia’s words were clipped, impatient. 

That gave him pause, “Where is she?”

“She showed up at the house well after midnight, half frozen to death and sobbing,” Mia watched his face closely, gauging his reaction. 

“What?” he tried to understand. 

Mia leaned forward, ran a hand through her hair, looked so much like his mother in that moment he felt thirteen again, “Look, I’m not trying to meddle-”

“And yet?” Cullen interrupted his patience waned. 

Mia glowered, hands on her hips, “And yet I can’t ignore the feeling that she’d only show up at the house if things had gone awry with you.”

Cullen clenched his jaw. His sister was the last person he wanted to discuss this with, “It’s really none of your business, Mia.”

He awaited her protestations, Mia was head of the family and did not take well to being challenged. He watched her posture relax, her blue eyes soften. He had been expecting an earful. Instead, she simply nodded, “You deserve to be happy, you know that right?”

He swallowed hard, met her eyes over the space the desk put between them, couldn’t seem to find words to respond to her. 

“Sometimes we sabotage the things we care about, because we think we don’t deserve them. We hurt the ones we want to heal the most,” Mia said softly. 

“You sound like mum,” he unclenched the fists he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, “you remind me a lot of her.”

Mia smiled a little, “She was a lot wiser than me.”

He walked around the desk, leaning on the front of it, “Sometimes I don’t remember that much of them, sometimes I wondered if all of it had been real. The farmhouse, the loft, that stupid goat….Like maybe I dreamed it all up.”

“Oh Cullen,” Mia’s eyes were sad, “we were always real.” 

He lowered his gaze to the floor. 

“You’ve built something here, Cullen. Rebuilding so much of what was lost, helping others do the same,” Mia stood and stepped towards him. 

“I thought we were doing so well, and then….” the words didn’t need to be said, Mia understood. 

“You couldn’t have foreseen that, nor changed his mind. It was his choice to make, not yours,” Mia tilted her head, trying to get him to lift his eyes from the floor. 

“It was our fault, he was our charge and we….we failed him.”

“You did no such thing,” Mia disagreed. 

He looked to her eyes, the clear blue depths held nothing but kindness, “Do you think that putting your faith in the Maker, putting everything in his hands is the same as choosing not to live?”

Mia looked confused, seemed to pick her words carefully, “I think it is if that’s all you do. I think faith also requires action. If you place your faith with Him, you must continue living and doing. It’s more an acceptance of whatever might come.”

“Is that what you did, after the Blight?” he asked, realized he’d never known what had pushed his sister along through the grief and difficulty. 

She chuckled, “I also fought like hell.” 

“You did well,” Cullen offered. 

Mia smiled, a sadness still in her eyes, “So did you. But you’ve got to fight like hell too.”

“For what?” Cullen looked around at the shambles that was his life. 

“That’s up to you,” Mia pulled him into a hug and he was still a little put off with the physical shows of affection from his siblings. They weren’t unwelcome, just unfamiliar. 

“Thank you, Mia.”

She picked up her basket from where she’d set it on the couch, “I also came to make some breakfast, I thought everyone might need it today. Are things arranged?”

“Yes, I spoke with the Revered Mother, the funeral will be tomorrow,” he shifted uncomfortably under his sister’s watchful gaze. He felt as if she could see his every thought as he sifted through her words as well as Mara’s. 

She nodded, “We’ll all be there.” A careful reminder that he wasn’t alone, but suddenly he wanted to be. There was so much risk for disappointment here. He was still angry enough he had been picking his words carefully around his sister as they spoke. He needed an escape, a break. If he’d been at Skyhold he would have gone out on the battlements, no matter what troubled him that always seemed to have calmed him. 

Mia seemed to sense his discomfort, “I’ll go get to work.” He gave her a nod as he walked back around his desk and pretended to get back to work. He waited until he was sure she was in the kitchen, tossed the paperwork he had just picked up back on the desk, sending it skittering across the smooth surface. He grabbed his leather coat from where it was draped over the chair behind him and stole out of the house like a thief, anger still simmering and guilt blooming as he left. 

The air was chilly in his lungs, biting his exposed skin, but he kept walking. He waited for the air to cool his temper. He followed along the road that led east, towards Denerim, away from South Reach. He felt tense, like a too tightly wound spring. He wished Mia and Mara’s words would stop rattling around in his brain. So he tried to focus on the crunch of the road beneath his boots, the sun rising higher in the sky. He hoped that being outside would give him the pragmatic distance he so often found, but it didn’t seem to come. 

Soon, the road met the forest, the path darkening as it wound through the shaded canopy. He thought of turning back, but a sea foam strip of fabric caught his eye. He stepped forward, broken and bent branches framed the torn piece. He plucked it from the branch that had so securely caught it, he recognized the color, Mara had been wearing a tunic the same color the day before. There seemed to be a crude path through the foliage, and despite his better judgement, he followed it. 

Whatever had come through had been in a hurry. The branches were snapped and bent, even ones that would have been easy to avoid. He kept moving, but as he did his skin prickled and his hair stood on end. He could sense magic nearby and he reached for the sword that no longer hung on his hip. He chided himself for the reaction, there was likely nothing amiss. He thought about turning back, but curiosity kept him moving towards the ominous tug of magic, worrying over the soft fabric in his fingers. 

He could hear it as he got closer, the frosty crackle of ice magic. And then he saw them. Great blue thaigs of ice erupted from the ground, the ground frozen, frost covering every surface within the clearing. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked around at the frozen destruction. Strong magic had touched this place and he fell back on instinct, scanning through the trees for any sign of a threat. All was quiet in the morning light, and the longer he stood in the center of it all there was something in it he recognized in the magic, the cool twist. 

Mara. 

He groaned aloud as he walked deeper into the icy world she’d built here. He could sense the familiarity of her magic in the clearing, but also a deep undercurrent of grief that ran through the place. It was hard for him to describe how he could feel the emotions through the residual magic, but it was there clear as day in his head. His boots crunched on the ice underfoot, and frost had crept up into the trees like deadly vines the leaves on several branches were curled and shriveled. It was like a winter storm had struck, but only in this particular spot. The lonesome melancholy of it all was not lost on him. 

Cullen had seen mages lose control. Seen them expel all their magic at once, often when emotions got too much. He’d seen it fire erupt all around a mage once, ran a hand absently over the scar that had faded on his left arm. The mage’s power wouldn’t have gone unchecked for long, a Templar would Silence them before it got truly out of hand. He’d seen a few close calls, nothing more. 

But this, this was something else entirely. Mara had clearly had enough control, to get here and then consciously had drained every bit of magic from her veins. No wonder she’d been half frozen to death when she’d arrived at Mia’s doorstep. 

He clenched his fingers at his sides as he stood in the clearing, knuckles turning white as he looked around at the ice around him. He began to pace, his anger rekindled. How the void could she have been so careless? And then draining her mana like that, here in the middle of nowhere? What was she thinking?

That he had sent her away. He remembered the way she had looked at him. He couldn’t wash the heartbreak written all over her face as she’d flitted away from his eyelids. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was her. 

His temper flared as he struck the nearest tree with his fist. Pain bloomed across his knuckle, centering him. He sucked in a shaky breath and took a moment to take stock of where he was. When he looked around again, he really looked and his anger ebbed. 

How could he have accused her of not feeling when he stood here in the evidence of so much of it, it’d almost broken her? His vision blurred for a moment, eyes wet with tears and heart heavy with regret. What had he promised her all that time ago? That he was there, that she’d be safe. What a mess he’d made of things. 

_ We sabotage the things we care about.  _ Yes, well he’d know all about that wouldn’t he? The accusation that Mara didn’t feel seemed so stupid now, standing in the midst of all the ice and pain here. He replayed last night in his head again, the way Mara had looked. It was an expression he should have recognized at the time. He’d seen it on the faces of his soldiers who had been on the lines too long, had seen too much. When he had encountered that he’d pulled them off the lines for a few days of good food and warm beds before sending them back. But what had he done with her? He’d kept looking to her to help and heal him, and when she hadn’t, couldn’t, he’d lashed out at her. 

Mara gave so much to everyone else, but there was rarely anyone there for her. That was why she’d sought him out the night before, and instead he’d just watched her hurt. Who heals the healer?  Mara had taken care of everyone, including him and he’d pushed her too far. Until she came out here completely alone to grieve. Until she went to his sister’s because he’d sent her away. He would not tether her with his words, if she wanted to leave she could leave. If he asked her to stay it’d just serve to tangle things up further than they already were. No, she needed to decide that all on her own, and then perhaps someday there could be something more of this. He shuffled on his feet as he ran the cloth between his fingers. He would not use his misguided feelings as a means to keep her here, he couldn’t. 

But he wondered, wondered if this withholding was subconsciously a form a punishment, for the things she’d said, for the feelings she lacked. How she’d looked at Gregory’s body without a single emotion, how she’d disappeared off to the infirmary, and the judgement in her words at him. He sighed and ran a hand down his face, how did everything become so broken so quickly? 

He threw one last glance around the clearing tucking the fabric in his pocket, before he followed the same path back to the road. There was a certain relief in leaving that place, like the ice had gripped him while he was there and he was finally out of its grasp. He made his way back to the estate, he wanted to check on Mara. He wanted to see if she was alright. 

He reached the estate quickly and he walked through the door, heading straight to the infirmary only to find it empty. The sunshine reflecting off of pale yellow drew his eyes outside. She sat in the garden, long piece of wood in her hands, oak perhaps? It looked like she was carving some sort of staff, and her face looked undeniably sad as she worked. 

He froze. Resolve faltering, she was here and looked well enough. Her words were still too fresh, too raw in his mind, and while he wished he could make things right, all he had to give her was his words. The same thing that had driven them so far apart. She sat just a few hundred feet from him, but she may as well have been a thousand miles away. So he walked back the way he came, leaving her alone out in the garden. 

***

Their procession moved solemnly towards the Chantry. It was a simple building, newer, having been rebuilt since the Blight. Instead of being in the center of everything it stood quietly a little ways off from the town proper on a small hill. The grass swayed in green ripples on either side of the stone path. The day was unusually warm given the chill of the previous ones, and it seemed so ill-fitting that the day be so beautiful when there was so much sadness in their hearts. 

Cullen hadn’t spoken with Mara, hadn’t found the time, the words. She carried the oak staff he’d seen her carving in her hands. The top of if was twisted and intricate, he wasn’t sure what it was for. 

Gregory was laid out on a pyre behind the chantry. His pale hair shone bright in the sunlight, they’d chosen to forgo the typical Templar uniform he was entitled to wear, opting instead for the same clothes he’d worn to the Festival. The happy evening seeming a lifetime away. He looked peaceful as he laid in the last remnants of summer that clung to the chantry, his kind face was upturned toward the sun. 

The Revered Mother stood close by, greeting them all as they arrived. She grasped his hand as the group circled the pyre, lead him to stand directly behind Gregory. Mother Lizeth waited until everyone stood around the pyre before she began. Cullen glanced around the circle. Rosalie stood between Barris and Mara, both of their hands clasped in her own and he wished he didn’t feel so isolated from her. 

“We are gathered today to honor the life of Gregory Bermond, who served his Maker dutifully as a Templar and later for the Inquisition. The Maker called him home earlier than we wished, but he is at peace now at His side,” Mother Lizeth spoke, her words felt generic, empty. She didn’t actually know Gregory, didn’t know how he’d fought, how he’d been kind and patient, how he’d never complained even when his symptoms were at their peak. He wasn’t sure his words would do him justice either. Mother Lizeth stepped back, his cue to speak. 

He tore his eyes from Gregory to find Mara’s face. Her eyes were focused on the ground and tears streaked down her cheeks. He looked away, trying to keep his voice strong, “Gregory was everything a Templar should be. Kind, strong, and stalwart.”

He paused for a moment, taking a breath before beginning again, “I am reminded of a canticle from Apotheosis. When Andraste leads her troops to battle she said, ‘You who stand before the gates, who have followed me into the heart of evil, The fear of death is in your eyes; its hand upon your throat. Raise your voices to the heavens! Remember: Not alone do we stand on the field of battle. The Maker is with us! His light shall be our banner, And we shall bear it through the gates of that city and deliver it To our brothers and sisters awaiting their freedom within those walls, At last the Light shall shine upon all of creation, If we are only strong enough to carry it.’”

Mara was looking up at him now, expression unreadable. Mia stood arm in arm with Matthew, coaxing him forward with her gaze. “The path we walk is difficult, all of us have different trials. But we can keep moving forward, to show others what we can do. We won’t forget Gregory. He taught us to be kind, to watch out for one another, and to trust freely. We are all better for knowing him, and we can keep what he taught with us as we keep pressing forward,” he blinked away the tears that formed in his eyes as he stepped back. Mother Lizeth pressed a reassuring hand against his arm.

“If anyone else has anything they’d like to say, the time is yours,” Mother Lizeth said reverently. 

Mara stepped forward, oak staff in hand. She walked slowly to the pyre, set the staff next to Gregory’s still form. She stood for a moment in silence before she spoke words he didn’t understand, “Ir abelas, dareth shiral arla. Ar lasa mala revas. May you find peace, my friend.”

Cullen clenched his jaw, swallowed the urge to comfort her, to do something. But he remained next to the Mother, giving everyone a chance to say goodbye. Mara fell back in line with Rosie, hands laced together. 

Finally, he lit the pyre and the group wound their way back down the stone path into South Reach while smoke rose amongst the hushed whispers of their goodbyes to Gregory. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Translation:I’m sorry, safe journey home. You are free.  
> Another chapter of the sads. I received so many lovely messages, comments, and thoughts about the previous chapter and I just wanted to say thank you. It covered issues that I felt really strongly needed to be written a certain way. I appreciate all of the people who shared their own experiences with me. This is what writing is all about, bringing people together and sharing. Let me know what you think below!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the funeral Mara has made a decision, but both Rosalie and Branson try to change her mind.

The funeral was the worst part of it all. 

Funerals were rarely happy occasions, but shems turned them into something truly awful. They had stood in some semblance of a circle around Gregory’s body, which was laid out on the pyre waiting to be set aflame. It was a waste.

For the Dalish, death was about celebration, the continuation of life. It was about regeneration and regrowth. The dead were buried, songs sung, and then they planted trees. Where one life ends another begins, always. Keeper Deshanna had said that often, there was a cycle and balance to life and it was not their position to question the Gods on it. She never did question until her parents were dead, then it seemed that the questions never stopped. Her Gods were just as silent as the Maker. She absently rubbed the vallaslin on her left arm. 

Snippets of melody pressed against her heart as she stood, waiting for everyone to have their turn, she knew the words well. She wanted to sing them, she wanted to plant a tree for Gregory, but more than anything she wanted to leave the Chantry yard. 

She’d carved a staff for Gregory, tried to carve the top to imitate the majesty and crooked branches of the oak tree she’d plucked the wood from. Oak was a symbol of endurance, she found it comforting rather than ironic as she’d placed it next to him on the pyre. He’d endured too much is his too short life, she’d rather remember that. The staffs for the dead were supposed to help them traverse the Fade to reach peace, that’s at least what her people believed. The Chantry seemed to think Gregory to be with the Maker, but they also believed Him cold and uncaring. She wasn’t sure that brought any amount of comfort, at least the Dalish were optimistic. 

It all seemed very impersonal to her. The way Mother Lizeth talked about Gregory, she didn’t know him and she wanted to ask why someone hardly knew Gregory was presiding. It was never that way for the Dalish and she couldn’t help but resent it a little. Didn’t Gregory deserve a better send off than this? 

Cullen’s words were the only ones she felt were worth clinging to. She had no love for the Chant of Light, but she had to admit that the canticle he shared was both beautiful and fitting. There was so much of Gregory that was worth remembering, and how do you put that into words? Cullen seemed to struggle a little with them as he spoke and his eyes kept meeting hers, looking searchingly for something that felt like approval. She wasn’t sure why he wanted that from her of all people, after everything.

Everything was quiet in the moment that Cullen lit the pyre, black smoke rising into the blue sky. She wanted to look away as the flames engulfed him, but she forced herself to watch, only began leaving when Rosalie tugged her hand and she followed, dazed. 

Rosie had scarcely left her side since she showed up at Mia’s unannounced, and by that count neither had Barris. She wanted to find comfort from the presence of her friend, but it was just too difficult. She felt as if she’d been moving through a fog in the last few days, unable to really see where she was moving. It didn’t help that everything was so broken all around her. 

The group walked solemnly back to the estate in a long, jagged line. Cullen wasn’t far behind her, the last of the group. Mara wanted to speak with him, wanted to tell him she was sorry for the words she’d thrown at him. She wanted to apologize, tell him how wrong she’d been to try to negate all of his work on himself by declaring it luck or something he hadn’t really wanted it. She’d been angry and hurting and she had been so very wrong. The conversation had been on a repeating loop in her mind since the last time they spoke, guilt building up each time. 

She hardly had the courage to look at him much less speak with him. She wanted to believe that she could salvage things between them, but the ache in her heart told her otherwise. She cared about him, more than she’d cared about anyone in a long time. It was all the more reason to go. 

He kept walking behind their small group, making no move to speak to her. Mara took a deep breath and gathered her courage. She gave Rosalie’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go and slowing down so that she and Cullen were walking side by side. Her heart pounded in her chest and she hoped that perhaps he might speak first, save her from breaching the silence between them. When it appeared he was content to wait her out, she spoke, voice far shaking.

“You spoke well, I thought,” she said tentatively. 

“Thank you. You said something in elven?” he asked, glancing towards her. The sun bounced off his golden halo of hair as they walked. 

She looked away towards the road ahead, “Ir abelas, dareth shiral arla. Ar lasa mala revas. I’m sorry, safe journey home. You are free.” Mara did not want to see his reaction to her translation of the words. She kept her eyes focused on the road that had grown familiar. She knew she would miss the hills and trees she’d memorized over the many times she had traversed this path. That she would miss the quiet beauty and simplicity of South Reach. 

“And the staff?”

“To guide him through the Fade to peace,” she whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. Afraid to challenge what he believed. 

“It was beautiful,” he said wistfully. Cullen had moved closer to her, if she leaned a little to her right they would be touching. The air seemed charged around them. His hand hung near hers, close enough she could almost feel the heat. She folded her arms across her chest to keep from reaching out to him. 

They walked in silence for a few moments; she was unsure what else to say. Unsure how to bring up the subject of leaving. She was running several beginnings over in her head when Cullen spoke again. 

“I….um...I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other night. I was...the things I said...they were….I’m sorry,” he rubbed his neck. 

She swallowed hard, her stomach sinking, “I was not in the best form either.” It was true, what she said was out of line no matter how you looked at them. 

“We both were aiming for the other, I am sorry,” he said once more, and she chanced a look at him. He did look truly sorry, golden eyes holding a deep sadness that seemed to be overflowing. 

“I’m sorry as well,” but she wasn’t sure what she was more sorry for, the things she’d thrown at him or the state of things between them. She supposed it was both. 

They fell back into silence. She wished for the ease that used to exist between them. It was gone, perhaps forever. She rallied her courage once more, there was more they needed to discuss. The most pressing matter was the next group that was due to arrive in a few short weeks. 

“I think we need to delay the next group,” she said quietly and waited for Cullen to disagree. She had several arguments ready, knew he wouldn’t go down easy. The timing made sense in her mind, Nathaniel and Beatrice would be leaving in a few weeks anyways and between Cullen and Barris they could find themselves another healer if they wanted to continue the clinic. They didn’t need her. 

Cullen stopped in his tracks and turned to her, he seemed for a moment like he might say something else, but stopped himself, “Why?”

“Look around, we’re not ready for this.” She kept walking. What she really should have said was, _ I’m leaving. I can’t stay here. Not when all I do is hurt, not when you deserve better.   _

Cullen followed. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, “How long?”

“Indefinitely.” The words sounded so final, and she wondered if he could guess at their true meaning.  

Cullen looked defeated as he agreed, “Alright.” 

She’d expected him to fight, more of the same as before, but instead he seemed to be treading carefully around her. He looked at her as if she might shatter into a million pieces before his eyes. She’d vowed she wouldn’t, and that was one promise she intended to keep. 

His soft words pulled her from her thoughts, “Are you alright?”

She’d answered the question multiple times over the past few days, and she had tried to give hopeful answers. But with him? There was no reason to lie, and she didn’t want to. “No. Are you?”

He shook his head, “Of all the ways things could have gone for Gregory, I never thought we’d be here.”

Neither had she. Of course, once he was dead she could see the warning signs clear as day, had never put them all together into the whole picture that was a burning pyre. She’d asked herself many times why they hadn’t paid more attention, what more could have been done to spare him this fate. The more she thought, the more the answers turned murky and fluid, like trying to hold water in her hands. 

“I know,” she said, because what else was there to say? Apologies and comfort could not reach over the chasm between them, so she stayed firmly planted on her side. 

He must of sensed this because he quickened his pace a little after saying, “My apologies, I should leave you to your thoughts.”

She watched him walk ahead as she followed behind the group, letting more and more space leak in between them. Their conversation had been stilted and awkward.  She wished for the clarity and sense of belonging she had felt as they laughed and joked in the infirmary. It felt like a lifetime ago. Now it seemed she had been fooling herself the whole time. 

Then like an itch she couldn’t quite reach kept coming the whisper,  _ time to leave. _

***

The room was dark like the rest of the house, curtains drawn and she hadn’t bothered to light a candle. She didn’t expect their conversation to last very long, but now the decision was truly made she needed to tell someone. She had felt the words bubbling up in her throat, like they were trying to break free. She’d dragged Rosie back to her room without much of an explanation and tried to hastily and quietly explain her plan. “You’re leaving?” Rosie exclaimed, voice loud enough to be overheard, even from her room on the other side of the house. 

Mara reached for Rosie’s arms, “Would you keep your voice down?”

Rosie began again in an angry whisper, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I received a letter about a job in Lothering as a healer and I’m going to take it,” Mara tried to pull away from Rosie, to escape the accusatory glare she was receiving but Rosie held her fast. 

“Why?” 

“I just think it’s best to move on from here. Dalish, remember?” Mara said her attempt at a joke darkening the conversation. 

“What about the clinic?”

Mara sighed, “They’ll be fine without me.”

Rosie shook her head and sat on the bed dejectedly,“Lothering is two days hard ride from here.”

Mara was well aware of the distance, had selected it not just out of convenience. She received letters often from hospitals around Thedas, acquaintances from the Inquisition were often recommending her. She’d found them somewhat annoying at first, but when the one that arrived last week was still on her desk after Gregory’s death it seemed as good a place to go as any. She’d been carrying the letter around since then felt it burning against her skin in the pocket she kept it in. It felt like freedom, but it also felt like betrayal. She could heal broken bones and scrapes and cuts, but she couldn’t heal anyone here.   

“I can’t stay,” Mara sat beside her on the bed, examining her hands in her lap. 

She knew that even Rosie’s powers of understanding must have their limits and she wondered if this sudden announcement after such a trying few days would push her over the edge. Instead Rosie looked calm when she asked, “How long before you leave?”

Mara was relieved to have not been questioned anymore about why. She was sure Rosie was at least vaguely aware that something had happened between her and Cullen. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, “A few days, a week at most.”

Rosie looked a disappointed at the announcement, “That’s so soon.” 

Mara nodded in response, played with the hem of her tunic to avoid looking back at Rosie.

“Have you told Cullen?” She flinched visibly at his name. Telling Cullen would be the most difficult, but it would be so much worse if Rosie told him first. She immediately questioned the wisdom in telling Rosie of her plans. 

“I will, but please keep it a secret for now, please?” Mara looked to her pleadingly. 

Rosie looked a little annoyed before she nodded and stood up. It was as if she was deciding something before she spoke, “I’m going to go see if Mia needs any help. But Mara?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to try to convince you to stay,” Rosie hesitated at the door, the words full of friendship and love. 

It broke Mara’s heart a little, “Thank you.” She wouldn’t be able to, but she appreciated the sentiment.

Rosie wasn’t one to fight a battle she didn’t think she could win, so she walked out leaving Mara in the silence and solitude of her room. Eventually she’d have to rejoin the others. 

Leaving was the cowardly thing to do and she knew it. She just couldn’t see any other options. She was no more a healer here than the lyrium they fought so hard to keep the Templars strong against. When you’re doing more harm than good, it’s time to go. Perhaps some things just can’t be healed, can’t be repaired. Herself included. 

***

Mia had made a huge meal for everyone. It was probably her attempt at cheering everyone up. After the meal everyone had dissolved into reminiscing about Gregory and suddenly the room had felt too small. She’d left the strangely empty, yet too full dining room finding her way out to her garden. Once outside, she found herself gulping the cold air into her lungs as if she had been starving for it inside the estate. 

She sat down heavily one of the steps, remembering the last time she was in this very spot, the words that were said. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. The decision was made, she’d leave in the next few days. She’d have to find someway to tell the rest of the Rutherford clan, including Cullen. He’d seemed so completely fine with postponing the next group of Templars indefinitely, surely her leaving wouldn’t make that much of a difference. 

For now, she wanted to enjoy the stillness she had built here in the garden. Even in the coolness, her herbs were still flourishing, mostly due to a warming spell she placed every few days to keep the soil warm and the frost away. It wouldn’t do much once the snows came, but she didn’t intend to be around long enough for that. 

Behind her she heard the door open and shut, braced herself for whoever it was that might join her. She was so emotionally drained, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be around anyone. She hoped beyond hope that it would be Cullen coming out to join her, that they might find their way through or around what had happened to them. During their conversation earlier he seemed filled with as much regret as she was, but it hadn’t really fixed anything. 

She turned to greet whoever it was, and hope fluttered for a moment when she glimpsed the golden head and broad shoulders, but it was Branson. She was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. 

“Saw that you’d snuck out here,” he said, “Mind if I join you?”

She scooted over on the step in response, “I just needed to get out of that room, for a little while.”

“I understand what you mean,” Branson nodded as she sat beside her. She looked forward trying to see past the horizon.

“I know you’ve heard this a lot, but I really am sorry about this whole situation,” Branson’s words were soft, understanding. 

She turned back to him, “Thank you.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. 

“Rosie says you’re leaving,” he sighed. 

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, “She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“If you wanted a secret kept, Rosie really isn’t the one for that. Especially when what you tell her is upsetting. She’s currently thinking up plans to get you to stay,” Branson said nonchalantly. 

“And you’re going to tell me to stay?” she raised an eyebrow. 

Branson chuckled darkly, “No. I just want to give you a few things to think about before you fully make your decision.”

She hugged her legs to her chest, “The decision has already been made, Bran.”

He raised his hands, “Just hear me out, please?”

She sighed, “Okay.”

“ I was so angry at my brother for so long. Mia told you about how he didn’t write, and how we spent almost two years unsure if he was alive?” She nodded in response and he continued, “After we tracked him down, after Mia told him everything that happened, the letters were still sparse. Once I wrote him a letter as a prank telling him I was going to join the Templars, and I’d never gotten a response back so quickly. Mia was pissed, but I’m not sure if it was just at me for sending the letter or how quickly he responded. It showed us he was capable of sending more often than he was.”

“I can only imagine his response,” Mara replied, imagining Cullen’s horror at his brother’s letter, the declaration of intent to join the Templars. No wonder Cullen had written back so fast. 

“His anger nearly rivaled Mia’s,” Branson admitted. “But you know what made me the most upset? Is that my brother could hardly bring himself to write to us, but the money always came on time.”

Mara frowned, “Money?”

“Oh yes, as if that somehow made up for how he abandoned us. In my head, I always assumed he didn’t write because he didn’t care. Once things were a little more stable financially, Mia took a Kirkwall paper for years. She was just watching for a glimpse of his name, some connection to him that he wouldn’t give.”

Mara considered that for a moment, “She never gave up on him did she?”

“Never. Even when I told her that maybe she should just leave it alone, that maybe he didn’t want to be found by us. She told me I was an idiot if I really believed that.”

“How long were you angry?”

“I still am sometimes. But when he got to South reach he looked….inexplicably tired. More than he needed sleep, it was a deep sort of exhaustion. It was also strange to have this person I spent all these years dismissing suddenly in front of me. I was fully ready to call him out on all the shit he pulled over the last twenty years, but the whole day he just kept looking at all of us like he couldn’t believe we were real. There was this sense of wonder on his face the whole evening, and I wanted to really have it out with him and I just couldn’t. Then after dinner he pulls me aside and gives me this.” Branson handed her a silver coin. 

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“The day Cullen went off to Templar training we stood at the dock of the nearby lake and I gave him this. Told him it was for luck. It wasn’t really lucky, something I just had on me, but I wanted to give him something,” Branson chuckled, “And when he got home he pulled me aside and handed it back to me.”

Mara’s eyes widened, “He’d kept it for almost twenty years?”

Branson nodded, “He kept it. And he said it had been lucky, had brought him home, and I made some stupid joke. I finally understood him after that. My brother doesn’t always says what he feels. All those times he didn’t write, it was because he felt he didn’t deserve our love, our support.”

The albatross around his neck, but what did it have to do with her? She handed the coin back, “I’m still not sure I understand what you’re telling me.”

“You’re good for our family. For him. We may not look it, but there was a lot that was broken when Cullen came back. You’ve been a part of the healing process. My family loves you, Mara. Maker, Liam still tells anyone who will listen how you made it snow in his bedroom,” Branson’s face was eager, eyes kind. 

“I...I’m not sure what to say,” she whispered. 

“You have a home here if you want it,” Branson said. 

Her eyes wandered back to the house, “I’m not sure if what I want is really relevant.”

Branson’s gaze followed her own, “What you want is always relevant.”

She only shrugged in response, but Branson seemed to understand what she was talking about anyway. 

“He probably won’t ask you to stay,” Branson said carefully, “but he may try to show you.”

“Like with the coin?” Mara asked, pulling her eyes back from the house. 

Branson’s arm wound around her, pulling her close, “Yes, so just think about it. Okay?” She settled into his arms, feeling the warmth, the protection. Branson had been such a good friend to her, and for a moment her resolve faltered a little. Did she really have to leave?

“Okay,” she promised. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many Branson Rutherford feels and they definitely leaked into this chapter. I've written an entire ficlet for him that someday I might get around to editing and posting. I really appreciate all of you who have stuck with me on this journey and through all the sads I keep heaping on. I promise that the next chapter will be much less angsty. You are all so lovely and I'd love to hear what you think below. <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen discovers Mara's plans, but another pressing matter arises. There's some action, a little angst, and a bit of happy ending.

The days after the funeral were blessedly quiet at the estate. Cullen tried to bring things back to normal, whatever that was for a group of lyrium addicted ex-Templars. He resumed training Nathaniel and Beatrice, trying to fall back into the easy routines that had existed before Gregory died. Things still weren’t quite right though. Mara was still avoiding him. He had sought her out a few times, trying to talk to her again, but she always made some sort of excuse and left. He had no intention to stop trying, but perhaps she needed more time. Mia had told him to fight like hell, and whether it was for friendship or love between him and Mara, he intended to do just that. Eventually.

He was in his office, trying to figure out some way to tell Cassandra everything that had happened. It made it all the more real to write it out, to explain that they needed some time before more Templars could arrive. It felt a bit like giving up, but it was the best course of action. For now. 

It had been a breezy day and even as the sun fell lower in the sky, the doors and windows stood open, air blowing through the house. The curtains flicked and snapped as the wind blew, and he had to set weights on the papers across his desk to keep them from blowing all over the place. He didn’t mind it though, the cooling air brought a freshness with it that was its own kind of calming. 

It was loud enough in his office that he didn’t notice the man’s presence until he cleared his throat, pulling Cullen up from his letter and leaving him wondering just how long he’d been there. 

“I’m looking for Mara Lavellan,” the man said once he had Cullen’s attention. Cullen looked him over, he bore the South Reach Guard insignia and he wondered what he was doing here. Felt a certain discomfort at his presence. Why would the Guard be here asking for Mara? Was she in some sort of trouble? 

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, “Who’s asking?”

“Tell her Riordan’s here,” he looked annoyed at the question. The familiarity with which he spoke wasn’t lost on Cullen. Riordan ran a hand through his crop of red hair, looking distinctly impatient at Cullen’s hesitation.  

Cullen sighed, “Alright.” He walked out of his office and down the hall to Mara’s room, the door was shut, so he knocked softly. 

She appeared at the door, eyes wide as she regarded him, “Yes?”

“Someone is here for you,” he said. She hesitated before opening the door wider so he could come in. 

“Who?” she asked over her shoulder. Her mostly empty room was even emptier now, packing crates scattered across the room, her few possessions sitting neatly within them. He felt like he was being punched in the gut as the realization dawned on him. She was leaving. He paused at the door, mouth agape. She looked back at him uncomfortably, she kept shifting from foot to foot. 

“You’re leaving,” it wasn’t a question and the words came out more strangled than he’d intended. 

She looked up at him through dark lashes, wringing her hands, “I meant to tell you. Who is here?”

He swallowed hard, “His name is Riordan.”

She looked as if she was suddenly remembering something, “Really? Did he say what about?” He shook his head and she blew out of the room heading for his office in a rush. He followed mutely. 

“Riordan!” he heard her voice excitedly greet the stranger in his office. He entered the room as she pulled back from embracing Riordan. He couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of the enthusiasm she greeted Riordan with.  

“Heard you’d moved out here,” Riordan smiled easily. 

Mara sidestepped the comment, “What are you doing here?”

“Think I’ve got a lead on that lyrium business you came and saw me about a few weeks ago. 

Remember that man you helped at the hospital with the major sword wound you turned over to us? Well he gave up some interesting information that I thought might be related to that lyrium smuggler. I’m a little short handed, and thought you might come along,” Riordan said. 

Mara nodded quickly, “Of course, I’ll just get changed and grab my things.”

“I’m coming with you,” Cullen interjected. If this was to do with the red lyrium he wanted to be apart of it, but there was a part of him that didn’t want to let her out of his sight. Like she might disappear if he did.  

Mara turned to him, frowning, “I’m sure you have more important things to do.” He was sure she wanted to say, I don’t want you to come. 

Riordan saved him from replying, “Actually, I could really use you both.”

“How short of men are you?” Mara’s eyes flashed, turning back to Riordan. 

“Enough that I need both of you,” Riordan dodged her question. 

Mara glowered before realizing she was beaten, “Well then, we best get moving.”

She spun out of his office and he resisted the urge to follow her, and instead went to change lest she convince Riordan to leave without him. His armor stood in the corner of his room, untouched since he’d arrived here. He didn’t realize just how much he missed it until he pulled it on, the familiarity of the armor helped to calm the nerves in his hands. He kept trying to process the revelation that she was leaving. Was this what Mia had meant about fighting? Was she leaving because of him? 

He’d speak to her tonight. For all of his assertions that he wouldn’t make her stay, he felt panicked at the thought of her leaving. He needed to tell her to stay. Needed to tell her everything. 

He stared hard at the red and gold fur-lined cloak still on the stand, debating whether to put it on. He sighed, it would likely be cold tonight and though he’d look out of place amongst the Guard he had nothing else that would work with his armor. 

Cullen passed Barris in the hallway as he strapped his sword to his side. Barris stopped in his tracks, “Cullen?”

“The Guard has a lead on the lyrium smugglers. Mara and I are going to check it out,” Cullen explained quickly, glancing down the stairs, “Keep an eye on things here?”

Barris nodded staring a little after him and Cullen didn’t wait for anymore of a response before barreling down the stairs into the foyer. Riordan stood alone and Cullen realized with some relief that he’d been faster than Mara. 

Riordan looked at him with some surprise, “And that’s the Commander of the Inquisition.”

“Only armor I have,” Cullen replied tersely. He refused to feel foolish in front of this man. He was still guessing at his relationship to Mara. 

Riordan raised his hands in surrender, “I meant no offense. It suits you. I should have introduced myself more properly, I’m the head of the Guard, Riordan Mikkaelson.” Riordan held out a hand, an offering of peace. The full name was something Cullen remembered. 

Cullen took it, saw no reason not to, “Cullen Rutherford. I believe you were in correspondence with the Inquisition.”

“Oh yes, they lent us much more help than the crown could when that rift opened up in the hills,” Riordan said. 

Cullen nodded, “I remember, and there seems to be a lot of respect here for the Guard.”

“Well, that and for the Hero of South Reach.”

Cullen wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. He felt like there had to have been more he’d read from Riordan’s reports that he could talk about. He glanced around the room uncomfortably, trying to think of something to say. The silence dragged on for few more moments before Cullen filled it. 

“Of course. You have no idea who it was?”  

Riordan looked at him for a moment, a hint of amusement behind his eyes, “Don’t you?”

Before Cullen could reply Mara appeared around the corner, pulling long gray gloves up over the darker leather of her coat. It was light armor, but appeared to have mail pauldrons. The leather was thick and protective, and clung closely to her lithe form. She’d wrapped a blue scarf around her neck to combat the cool night air and two wicked looking daggers were sheathed against her back. She looked dangerous and beautiful. She seemed taken aback at his appearance, paused for a moment before looking away.

“Ready?” she asked as she walked past the two of them out through the door. 

Riordan shot him a knowing look and followed Mara out. Cullen sighed and left the house as well. There were several people on horseback waiting on the road, laughing and talking. At Mara’s appearance they cheered. 

“There she is!” one of them called. 

“Fiercest elf in South Reach!” another yelled.

Mara smirked, “I’m the only elf in South Reach, Miles.”

“Technicality!” Miles shouted back. 

Mara greeted the men in turn, with exchanged smiles and jokes. She looked happy to see each one of these men. Maker it was nice to see her smile again. 

“How’s Lauren?” Mara asked one of the men as she ran her fingers over his mare’s snout. 

“Extremely sick of being pregnant. You don’t know any tricks for that do you?” he asked earnestly. 

Mara laughed, “Babies tend to come whenever they want to come, you know that.”

“We wondered when you might be restless enough to come back to us,” a woman with dark hair and almond eyes called from her horse. 

“Andraste’s tits Ren, you make it sound like she quit or something,” Miles frowned. 

Ren rolled her eyes, “She told us she didn’t have time to come regularly, but that we could call on her when we were in a pinch.”

“It’s true,” Mara backed her up. 

“So we’re in a pinch?” one of the men asked Riordan. 

Riordan shook his head, “The more help we can get the better.”

Cullen watched the whole exchange a little incredulously. He knew that Mara knew people from the town, but this was different. This was comradery. There was this whole part of who she was tied into being with this group and he didn’t know it at all. 

Riordan must have noticed Cullen’s surprise, “She picks up the odd job with us every now and again. Well, she did when she worked in the hospital. She told me she was too busy up here, but since we had a lead for her I figured she wouldn’t mind too much.”

“I see,” Cullen nodded and couldn’t help being a little hurt. The last few months they’d spent practically every day together and she’d never bothered to mention this.

“Everyone, this is Cullen Rutherford,” Riordan introduced him to the chatty group. 

Cullen gave a silent nod to the group. Miles looked him over, “You related to the Rutherfords at Witting farm?”

“Yes,” Cullen replied. 

Another spoke, “Commander of the Inquisition, if I’m not mistaken?”

“The very same,” Riordan replied for him. 

“Well you won’t be catching much of a cold with that on,” Ren pointed at his surcoat and laughed. The rest of the men joined her. Cullen felt thirteen again, facing a group of Templars who saw him as the outsider.  

“Alright, alright. I hate to break up the reunion, but we’ve got some smugglers to track,” Riordan interrupted. “The man Mara turned in informed us that a group of smugglers are meeting in the Brecilian Forest. He said to plan on encountering some muscle. We’ll ride in a ways and then continue on foot so we can take them by surprise.”

Everyone nodded, the carefree air replaced with a seriousness as they listened. Their horses shuffled and moved impatiently. The mare Mara had been petting nudged her shoulder to get her attention back. 

There were only two riderless horses. Riordan handed the reins of one to Mara, “I’m afraid I only brought along one extra horse. You’ll have to share. We’re not going far. That won’t be a problem will it?”

Mara’s eyes narrowed at Riordan before she smiled, “No.”

Riordan mounted his horse and began moving up the road while Cullen stood awkwardly next to Mara. She looked around for a moment, as if trying to produce another horse out of thin air before jumping up into the saddle. 

He stood there for a moment before she looked down at him, “Coming, Rutherford?”

He sighed and swung up behind her. Once in the saddle he paused trying to figure out where to put his hands. He could almost hear Mara’s eyes roll as she urged the horse forward which forced him to clutch her waist, lest he fall off. 

His face grew uncomfortably hot as he realized how close they were pressed up together. Each gallop of the horse brushed him against her and he was thankful for the distance his breastplate gave between the two of them. It might have been romantic in another life if the whole situation hadn’t been so blasted uncomfortable. They rode in silence and the fact she was leaving settled on his shoulders and along with  it, an anger. She was just going to abandon the clinic? 

“When exactly were you going to tell me you were leaving?” he asked, mouth next to her ear so that the wind didn’t steal his words. 

“I was working on it,” she said. 

“Oh yeah, when exactly were you planning on leaving?” he was afraid of her answer. 

“Tomorrow,” she said almost to quiet to hear. 

“Maker’s breath, are you serious?”

“Yes,” she sighed. 

He was angier now, “You were just going to up and leave us without a healer?”

She slowed the horse so she could turn to face him a little, “You really want to do this  _ now _ ?” 

He glared at her, “Well apparently I wouldn’t get another chance otherwise.”

She shook her head and urged the horse onward so that they weren’t too far behind the group. 

“I was going to tell you,” she reiterated, “I was just trying to figure out how.”

“‘Hey Cullen, I’m thinking about leaving’ would have probably worked,” he spat. 

“Because you’re so damn easy to talk to?” she threw back at him. 

Cullen gritted his teeth, “It wasn’t like I was going to forcibly stop you from leaving or anything.”

“Yes, you already made that quite clear,” she said with a tone of finality. He wasn’t sure what to say to that anyways, it was true, he’d told her he wouldn’t keep her from leaving. That didn’t mean he wanted her to leave, even when she was being completely infuriating. 

In fact, the thought of her leaving still left him a little breathless and panicked. He should have been concerned about the clinic, but couldn’t shake the feeling that if she left she’d be taking a part of his heart with her and he’d never get it back. He wouldn’t want it back, she could keep it. Perhaps if she did then she might return his feelings someday.

He was incredibly foolish. There they were, riding into Maker knew what to investigate the lyrium smuggling and all he could think about was the woman whose waist he gripped. It was out of practicality and he knew it, but his fingers fit so perfectly along the curve of her waist that it was hard to think of much beyond her. 

The horse slowed and it tore Cullen from his thoughts. It was getting late, the first moon was high in the sky over the landscape as the second appeared over the horizon. They were about eight miles out from South Reach judging by how long they’d ridden. Riordan was dismounting from his horse and his men were following suit. 

Mara brought their horse to a stop and Cullen dismounted. He walked to the rest of the group, ignoring the impulse to help Mara down from the horse. With the way things were, she’d likely find it insulting.

“Miles will keep an eye on the horses and guard the perimeter. Landen and Ren you’ll take the northernmost part of the clearing. Mara and Cullen you’re with me, we’ll take the southernmost part of the clearing. No one goes until I signal, got it?” Riordan looked pointedly at Landen and Ren. 

The group murmured their agreement while Miles collected the horses. They were in a curve of the road on the edge of the forest. In the darkness, the horses would be properly obscured until someone was right upon them. 

Riordan began moving towards the treeline before he turned over his shoulder, “It’s about a mile in. We’ll move as silently as possible.”

They moved in a single file line through the thick underbrush. Riordan led with Ren and Landen behind him, then Mara, and Cullen brought up the rear. He followed along in silence, focusing on the back of Mara’s head, her hair caught pieces of moonlight that filtered through the canopy overhead. 

Riordan’s group moved quickly and quietly, but none could quite match Mara’s graceful movement. While they tripped and broke branches in the darkness, Mara never made a sound. Cullen was a little amazed by how she was able to travel so seamlessly, but he supposed it made sense having spent her entire life growing up in a forest.

The trees seemed to be thinning when Riordan stopped the group. Cullen wasn’t sure if it was a trick of his eyes in the darkness, but he could have sworn he could see the flicker of orange light up ahead. 

Wordlessly, Riordan signaled Landen and Ren to head north to the other side of the clearing, while he led Mara and him towards the south side. The closer they moved, the more pronounced the light became. He could hear the rise and fall of voices, too far away to make out what they were saying. 

Riordan crouched down in the brush, waiting for Mara and Cullen to come close enough to speak, “Mara we’re going to get a little closer so we can see what we’re up against. I’ll want you to go in and see how many you can take out before they realize we’re here. As soon as they know what’s going on we’ll come in after you.”

Mara nodded, “Who do I need to avoid killing?”

“Short guy, very fat, likely letting everyone else do all the work,” Riordan whispered. 

They moved closer to the clearing and so far Cullen could see three men, two warriors and another that looked unarmed but likely wasn’t. Mara was right next to him when Riordan signalled that she could move. Cullen felt an urgency to stop her. This plan was dangerous and though she was a skilled fighter, there were several ways this could go wrong. He reached out his hand and grabbed hers as she began to move. 

She froze and turned back to him, eyes asking the silent question. There were a million things he wanted to say, worried he wouldn’t get the chance to. He swallowed hard before mouthing, “Be careful.”

She gave him a jerk of a nod before pulling her fingers from his grasp. She crept forward taking stock of each person in the clearing. As Cullen watched he counted three more men moving around the clearing. There was a large bonfire in the middle, the sole source of light and the wagons stood in a circle lining the clearing. The animals had been unhitched and were feeding near them. One of the men was tying off a horse while Mara slid her daggers from her back. 

Mara was light and fast, the second she cleared the treeline she was a blur. She quietly dispatched the man closest who had been tending to the horses, and then moved towards another who was rummaging through a wagon nearby.

The second man didn’t go quite as quietly as the first and the rest of the camp sprang to life. They pulled out their weapons and rushed towards Mara. Cullen glanced towards Riordan, fighting every nerve in his body to remain crouched in the darkness. He knew the importance of following orders, and Mara trusted this man so he should trust him too. 

Riordan met his eyes and surged forward yelling, “Now!”

Cullen followed, sword and shield in hand. By the time he was in the light of the fires Mara was already fending off another smuggler. He was a big burly man, and carrying a heavy axe. Cullen didn’t have time to be concerned for her safety as he parried a blow from one of the smugglers.

Their swords met with a loud clang, the scrape of metal that his training had taught him to pay as much attention to as his enemies movements. He dodged a particular punishing attacking,but wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the hilt of the man's sword slamming into his temple. Furious, Cullen counterattacked, thrusting his sword forward and putting the other man off balance. He swung again cutting deep and dispatching the man quickly.

Another smuggler ran towards him with a rush of ferocity, waving his sword. This man was no warrior. Cullen let him rush, meeting his speed with a bash of his shield. His attacker seemed to be in a state of shock over the solidness of the shield. He fell back dazed, and Cullen wasted no time raising his sword to cut him down. The man hadn’t hit the ground before Cullen was spinning to meet another. 

The sound of metal meeting metal and the grunts of fighting were a wild chorus in his ears. It was familiar as was the accompanying rush of adrenaline. Cullen engaged another man and brought him down quickly before noticing that Mara was still facing off against the axe. 

She’d just dodged a blow and the necessary dive had sent her scrambling. Cullen snarled as he ran, hoping he wouldn’t be too late to stop the relentless drive of the man’s axe. The man roared swinging for Mara, she looked terrified and Cullen believed he had arrived just in time, moving between Mara and the man. 

Mara’s eyes met his, and she looked first annoyed and then concerned. He realized she’d been feigning. As soon as the man swung, he’d be wide open for an attack. It was too late. Cullen caught the blow of the man’s axe with his shield. The force sent reverberations all the way up his arm. Cullen moved back to put a few paces between him and the man, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. The sharp tip of the axe came into contact with his shoulder. Cullen felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, but shot back raising his sword. It was unneeded, a wall of ice appeared between him and the man. Cullen didn’t hesitate to run around the barrier. When he did there was a dagger in the man’s back, frost framing his face. 

Cullen whipped around, checking his surroundings. The fighting had ceased around them and the only others in the clearing aside from Riordan, Landen and Ren were two men who had surrendered by the fire. 

Mara rounded on him, eyes blazing, “What the hell were you thinking?”

Cullen looked at her incredulously, “Trying to save you!”

“I had it under control!” Mara yelled moving towards him. He took an instinctive step back, which only served to make her more angry, eyes narrowing. “Will you stand still for a second?”

He paused as she brought herself flush with him and his breath caught as she reached for his face. His whole body felt warm as she gripped his chin. She was making herself as tall as possible while pulling his face towards hers. His heart sank when she jerked it to his chin to the left so she could examine his face.

_ Rutherford, you fool.   _

“It’s not deep,” she said finally. He could feel the warm puff of her breath on his skin, felt the rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath. He swallowed and tried to focus on the treeline. 

“That’s good,” he said without much concern. 

She pulled away, “The shoulder?”

“I’ve had worse,” he shrugged. The movement and draining adrenaline sent a shock of pain through his arm. He’d definitely had worse, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. 

“I’ll deal with you in a minute,” she glowered as she stalked off toward the fire and the two men Ren and Landen had detained. 

“So which one of you was selling lyrium in South Reach?” Mara asked, eyebrow raised. 

The larger of the two men laughed at her, “I don’t have to answer to you.”

Mara’s daggers were sheathed, but she pulled a small knife from a pack at her hip, and twisted it around in her hands. The blade caught the firelight and flashed menacingly. 

The man looked between Ren and Landen, “One of you call your rabbit off, eh?”

Mara responded with a quick flick of her wrist and the man screeched as the knife landed between his legs, dangerously close to making contact. Cullen gave an involuntary shudder which left him wincing as his shoulder throbbed at the movement. 

“Why don’t you call me a knife-ear next, and we find out which one of your testicles you get to keep, eh?” Mara mimicked the man’s accent on the last word as she pulled another knife out and brandished it. She was wild and beautiful in the firelight. Cullen couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

The man’s eye’s widened at the threat. His face was a collection of fear and disbelief. Riordan appeared next to Mara, handing her something he’d taken from the wagon of goods. 

“Test her at your own peril. I won’t stop her,” Riordan said to the man, “Name?”

The man sighed, “Gerard Askin.”

Riordan turned his attention to Mara, “Is that like the lyrium you told me about?”

Mara held the bottle out, trying to get a better look at it in the light. Cullen’s stomach lurched as every nerve in his body called out towards the blue liquid she held. He could almost hear the singing. It seemed off somehow as he stared hungrily at it. His mouth ran dry and he tore his gaze away from Mara with great effort. 

“It is,” Mara said with certainty. Cullen chanced a glance her way, she was regarding him with worried eyes, lyrium bottle nowhere to be seen. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

“Where’d you get it?” Riordan asked. 

“Where do I get most me goods? Denerim of course,” Gerard rolled his eyes. 

Riordan glared at the man, “I believe you can answer our questions without so much lip. Otherwise I’ll let Mara practice her throwing knife accuracy some more.”

Gerard sighed, “A man paid me a pretty penny to take it off ‘is hands.” 

“That didn’t strike you as odd? Don’t you do the selling of the goods?” Mara’s eyes flashed towards the man. 

“When you offered that much money, you take it and don’t ask a lot of questions.” 

“Was there anywhere in particular he wanted you to bring it?” Mara asked.

Gerard nodded, “Yeah. He wanted me to bring it to South Reach and sell it to any Templars I encountered. He promised that if I got the Templar’s name and came back, he’d pay me more for the trouble.”

Riordan’s brow creased, “How’d you know the man you were selling to was a Templar?”

“Easy enough to spot that. They all have a look,” Gerard shrugged, “That man over there is one too.” Gerard pointed to Cullen. 

Cullen scoffed, “That hardly proves anything. Most people know who I am.”

“This man that paid you, you get a name? Can you give us a description?” Mara frowned. 

“Did I get ‘is name?” Gerard laughed loudly, “What kind of business do you think I run? You want something illegal smuggled it’s best we don’t deal in names.” 

Riordan pinched his nose, “Answer the question.”

Landen nudged Gerard in the back. Gerard held up his hands in surrender, “I’m thinking! ‘e...wore a hood so I never saw his face. But ‘e was real nervous like, very paranoid. Kept rubbing ‘is eyes even though I couldn’t see ‘em.” 

“How exactly were you going to get in contact with him when you got back to Denerim?” Mara asked. 

“Tavern in the market district, Andraste’s Crown. I’m due back in a month and stay under the name the name Edmund Mettis. Then ‘e said he’d find me,” Gerard replied. Cullen froze at the name. 

“What did you say?” Cullen asked. 

Gerard turned to Cullen, “That I gave the name and he’d find me.”

Cullen clenched his jaw in frustration, the words coming out in a growl, “Not that, the name.”

“Edmund Mettis,” Gerard repeated. 

Mara eyed him, “Someone you know?”

Cullen nodded, “The name of a Templar I knew in Kirkwall.”

Mara’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “Could he be our contact then?”

“He’s dead,” Cullen said. Ser Mettis had died in the Gallows when Meredith went crazy and attacked the mages.

“A coincidence?” Mara asked. 

Cullen couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t, “Perhaps.”

“Anything else?” Riordan cocked his head. 

“Bout the lyrium?” Gerard shook his head, “No.”

“Mara, unless you have more business here why don’t you get to Miles and head home. He can bring the horses and we can finish up here,” Riordan offered without looking away from the smugglers. 

“If he gives you anything else useful-”

“I know where to find you,” Riordan assured her, “thank you for your help, but I think you better take your commander home before he bleeds out.” Riordan threw a pointed look at Cullen’s shoulder. 

Cullen looked down. He was sure it looked worse than it was, but he had to admit that quite a bit of blood had run down his arm. Mara moved to his side, her expression was unreadable, “I can look at it now, but I don’t have anything to combat possible infection.”

“It can wait,” Cullen replied, ignoring the ache. 

She gave him a terse nod and then started walking back the way they had come in. He followed her in silence, devoting all of his concentration to breathing and moving carefully enough not to jostle his shoulder. He kept turning over the new information in his head. He needed to get to Denerim immediately. 

They moved more quickly, no need for silence now, but somehow even though they didn’t speak the noise was deafening. Mara was the first to speak. 

“Denerim,” she repeated, “Red lyrium coming from Denerim.”

“I’ll go as soon as possible,” Cullen said, “give the name and wait.”

Mara spun on the spot, “Are you insane? If you show up there before he’s expected you’ll scare them off!”

“I can’t very well just sit around and do nothing!”

“Don’t you see? You’re the connecting factor in all of this. The name from Kirkwall, South Reach. It’s got to be a trap, one set for you,” Mara’s brow furrowed. 

“It hardly matters. Whoever they are, they must be stopped,” he continued walking. 

“At what cost?” Mara called out behind him.    
“At any cost!” He yelled. 

“Because you’re so good at that, jumping right into harm’s way when you’ll only get hurt,” Mara scowled as she caught up with him. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were talking about how I saved your life,” Cullen spat. He knew he’d been foolish to jump between her and the enemy, but he thought he at least deserved a thank you. 

“It was idiotic and you knew it! You got hurt!” 

He shook his head, “What does it matter to you?”

“It matters because -” they had reached the road and Miles stood there having no doubt heard most of their shouting match as they’d walked. Mara stopped midsentence, eyes narrowing before she turned to Miles. 

“Riordan needs you take the horses into the clearing,” Mara said. Miles nodded, looking between the two of them with unreserved curiosity. He handed Mara the reins to one of the horses. 

“We’ll pick her up on our way back to town, it looks like you have some work to do,” his eyes fell to Cullen’s shoulder. 

“Good to see you Miles,” Mara smoothly swung up into the saddle. 

Mara looked down at him, lips pursed, “Need help?”

Cullen shook his head as he climbed gingerly behind her in the saddle. His arm protested the movement and he winced a little at the pain. Mara waited until he seemed settled and commanded the horse forward. 

The ride back to the estate was mostly a blur to Cullen. He spent most of the journey focusing on breathing in and out and reciting the Chant in his head. Each gallop of the horse sent painful spasms up and down his arm and he was sure if he focused too heavily on it he would pass out. 

He didn’t even register that the horse had stopped until Mara grabbed the hand that was wound around her waist, “Cullen, we’re here.”

He opened his eyes, the dark estate loomed off in the darkness. He dismounted the horse as best he could. His head was spinning and felt dizzy as he stood in the stable. He didn’t say a word, but Mara tied the horse off and ushered him inside. 

“I need to look at that,” she glowered at him as they walked up the steps to the estate. 

Cullen shook his head, it was painful but he’d mended worse, “I can take care of it.”

“You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?”

“Pot. Kettle,” he gestured between the two of them. 

“Ah, so you shouldn’t fight me on this one.”

He sighed, she’d probably be less mad at him if he let her tend to the wound. He wasn’t sure if she was more upset about everything that had happened in the last week or that he’d gotten injured trying to protect her. Either way, he could feel the fury rolling off of her in waves. 

He followed her into the infirmary where she gestured to one of the beds, “Strip and sit.”

Cullen did as instructed beginning to remove his armor. She shed her armor and weapons, tossing them across her table at the front of the infirmary until she was left in just her under tunic and breeches. She rolled up her sleeves and began crushing some herbs. 

Undressing took him much longer than it would have without the injury. With each layer he removed the throbbing grew more painful until he sat shirtless and covered in blood on one of the beds. Mara was there almost as soon as he sat down, a damp cloth running along his skin. She cleaned the wound and pressed some paste into the wound, he hissed at the instantaneous burning sensation, “That almost hurts worse than the wound itself.”

“Serves you right,” she said as she continued to press it into the wound. 

He sighed, “Are you more mad over the things I said about Gregory or that I got injured saving you?”

“Saving me? I didn’t need any help. I had it under control.”

“You were almost hurt.”

“Says the man with the shoulder wound.”

“So which is it?”

She glared at him, “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Cullen said. 

“I had to use magic,” Mara admitted, she began dabbing at his temple while the paste did its work.

“You’re a mage,” Cullen said confused. 

She was close to him, close enough he could see the gold flecks in her eyes, the few freckles that dotted her nose. She didn’t meet his eyes as she worked, and he wished she would. 

“I haven’t used magic in combat since….” she trailed off but gave him a meaningful look. 

“Oh,” he breathed, understanding. So that was why he’d never seen her use magic to do more than heal and with her herbs. He knew she was a powerful mage, but had assumed she didn’t use her magic much due to living in a house full of former Templars. 

“I promised myself never again,” Mara said quietly. 

Cullen understood. He’d made plenty of internal promises over the years in an attempt to change, to be better. He bowed his head, “I’m sorry.” 

“I rather like you alive, so I suppose it was worth it,” she laughed a little trying to ease the tension between them. 

“You don’t know that he would have killed me,” Cullen argued jokingly. 

Her smile faded, “And you don’t know that he wouldn’t have.” She bit her lip while she worked, cleaning his face. She kept her eyes trained on the wound. 

“Mara,” he breathed. 

“Magic,” she warned, ignoring him. 

A blue glow filled the infirmary and he could feel the mending of skin, the warmth of her magic pouring into this body. When she pulled away the line was still red and angry, the cut must have been deeper than he thought. She began wrapping it with a bandage, smearing a foul smelling mixture on it before she did so. 

He watched her as she worked. Maker, she was beautiful. He was losing her. She was going to walk out of his life and he would have done nothing to change it. 

“Mara,” he repeated, gently, tenderly. He was afraid to hope too loudly, as if this moment might disappear before his eyes. 

Her fingers lingered on the bare skin of his shoulder, she swallowed hard and looked at the ground, “Cullen...don’t.”

“Don’t leave me,” the words spilled from his mouth aching and true.   

She took a deep breath at his words, eyes meeting his. There was so much sadness in those emerald depths, and he wanted to banish every bit of it. Knew he was the cause of far too much of it. He wanted to right all of the wrongs between them. 

“Cullen…” she shook her head, but her hand remained. He enveloped her hand with his own, eyes never leaving hers. “You could just let me go….”

“Is that what you want?” The words left his lips in a rush, his heart pounded in his ears as he waited for her response.

“No,” she whispered. 

The moment seemed frozen in his mind and before he could think better of it, he buried a hand in her hair, pushed himself up and claimed her lips in one swift motion. She gasped as their lips met, and the sound rang through his ears like a sweet melody.  

It took a moment, a few tantalizing beats of his heart before she kissed him back, before one hand settled on his chest and the other tangled in the hair on the back of his neck. He felt her press onto the tip of her toes so he wasn’t quite so bent over as he kissed her. She tasted like battle and sweat and sunshine. And though her hands were always surprisingly cold, she felt warm as he pulled her closer to him his right arm protesting as it wound around her waist. 

The kiss was greedy as he dragged his tongue across the seam of her lips. She parted them with a sigh that did nothing to slow the hammering of his heart. In the back of his mind he knew he wanted to take his time, be gentle and show her what she meant to him. All thoughts of being gentle vanished as her hand trailed down his exposed abdomen. 

Maker, he hadn’t touched anyone like this in so long. He broke away first, chasing his breath and was pleased to feel her chest heaving between them, as breathless as he was. He ran his hand over her cheek and resisted the urge to capture her lips once more. 

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” he whispered.

“You can’t just kiss me and expect it to fix everything,” she said breathlessly, but there was the ghost of a smile on her kiss swollen lips. 

He laughed, “You’d disappoint me if it did.” Mara’s hand rasped along the stubble of his jaw and the sensation sent a shiver through him. 

“So long as we’re clear, I’m still mad at you,” but she pressed onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, “But I’m staying.”

“You’re staying,” he repeated the words, unable to help the grin that settled on his face. She would stay. 

He pulled her closer, lips moving languidly against hers. His fingers on her cheek and ran down her neck. He could afford to be gentle and take his time now. He was impossibly lost within her, every brush of lips, every moment of her hands against his skin sent his heart soaring.  

She was here. She was staying. She was in his arms and that was enough for now. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK! They kissed! :D I know everyone had been screaming about this forever, and this chapter was a bit of monstrosity so thanks for sticking with me. There's a lot more story to come, but hey, they've got a few things figured out! There's 77 of you subscribed to this story, and I'm just over here screaming about it because it's really cool. So thanks for being awesome readers. As always, let me know what you think in the comments!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara and Cullen discuss things and make plans.

“Don’t leave me,” he said, his words strangled and full of need. 

She didn't look at him, knew that if she did she would break completely, but she didn't move. She didn't walk away even though she knew she should before this moved any further. She gave him an out, an opportunity to leave, walk away.

But his hand that had enveloped hers felt so warm, and so right. 

Then he asked the only question that mattered, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” she wasn't sure if she said it out loud or not, but she wanted him to know. Wanted him to know she would stay, for him. That she’d wanted this far longer than she should admit. Wanted him to know that as guarded as she was, he got under her skin in ways no one else ever had. 

When he kissed her it was an array of contradictions. Rough hands and soft lips, moving as though she was precious, but with an overwhelming need. Tender care juxtaposed with the hard lines of his body. Her neck arched back, he was so much taller and so she pushed to the tips of her toes and he clutched her closer as if she might disappear at any moment. 

She didn't intend on going anywhere. She would stay. He cared about her, the truth of that showed in every press of lips and  in the way his fingers grasped at her. She had never felt so wanted or so at home in anyone's arms. There would be no more running.  

She said something totally unromantic about how kissing him didn’t fix everything, and she very nearly believed her own words. Because if he was going to kiss her like  _ that _ , there might be very little that couldn’t fix. But despite her disbelief, this kiss did not solve everything. But the fixing could wait until morning.

“You're staying,” he repeated her words with a beaming smile. The edges of his eyes crinkled as he looked down at her incredulously. 

Cullen pressed his forehead to hers, holding her to him. She wanted more, more of him. More of this, of this happiness that had risen in her chest, filled her to bursting. She never believed she would find this.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered into the stillness. She felt heat bloom across her cheeks. 

She wasn’t sure what to say, so she pressed her lips to his. He seemed momentarily surprised at the action, but met her eagerly, hands moving slowly up her neck, settling on her cheeks. Time seemed to freeze, like they were suspended in a perfect moment. She didn’t ever want to leave the perfection of that moment. 

She buried her hands in the hair at the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. She wanted to will him closer. There was hardly any space between them, but it still felt like far too much. 

The sound of a throat being cleared had them both breaking apart suddenly. Barris was leaning against the doorframe mirth dancing in his eyes. 

“I thought I heard you come home. Glad to see you have made up,” Barris smiled and Mara knew her face was a deep shade of crimson. She chanced a look up at Cullen, and he wasn’t faring any better. 

Mara shifted a little foot to foot, words failed her. Her mind was still foggy with the memory of Cullen’s hands on her, his lips against hers. Then, despite herself she began giggling uncontrollably at the ridiculousness of the situation. Her and Cullen caught kissing in the infirmary and they had jumped away from each other like they were teenagers. There was relief there too, a desperate sort of release that finally she felt as though she was seen and it felt oh so good.  

Cullen joined in soon after, eyes bright and cheerful, and she realized he’d never laughed as often as he should. She loved the sound of his laughter. She wiped tears from her eyes as she attempted to steady her breathing and regain some control. 

Barris just stood smiling in the doorway looking between the two of them, “Perhaps next time you ought to pick a less public place to show your affections. Anyone could have walked in.” His words were filled more humor than had been present in the house since Gregory’s death. 

The thought of Beatrice and Nathaniel walking in on this brought a new round of laughter to both her and Cullen. Barris shook his head and walked away, once his back was turned Cullen pulled her back in his arms. 

They were both shaking from laughter and she could hear the sound of it rumbling in his chest. She ran her fingers across the exposed skin, feeling the raised skin of the scars that littered his chest. She pulled back a little to look up at him, he was looking down at her with so much affection and happiness on his face that it took a moment for her to remember to breathe. 

“You’re very short,” he said, the scarred part of his lip twisting up in a crooked smile. 

She scowled in jest, “Maybe you’re just really tall.”

He chuckled, “I’m quite sure you’re just short.”

“You sure you want to test me, you’ve seen what I can do with knives,” she teased. 

“That was a little surprising. You have impeccable aim,” he complimented easily. 

“Not really, he just got lucky,” she laughed. 

Cullen snorted, “You’re very cavalier about nearly taking his manhood.”

“He had it coming,” she smiled and relished in the press of his lips against hers. She could feel his smile as he kissed her, chaste and sweet. 

“We should get some sleep,” Cullen pulled away reluctantly. 

It was probably two or three in the morning, and while they had much to discuss Mara couldn’t quite shake the exhaustion that seemed to have crept in as soon as he mentioned sleep. 

“We’ll talk more later?” she asked. 

Cullen smiled again, “Of course. Will you still be mad at me?”

“Probably,” she said as she began walking towards her room. His hand caught her arm before she got too far away. She turned back expectantly.

“Goodnight, Mara,” he said quietly as he ran his finger over her knuckles. He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a light as feather kiss to them before letting her go. 

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she whispered, “Goodnight, Cullen.” She walked on unsteady legs back to her room. She leaned against the door heavily once she had shut it, she took deep breaths as she tried to convince herself that what had happened was real. 

***

When Mara awoke she wasn’t sure what time it was, but the light that streamed through her window was deep and low, it was probably afternoon. She sighed and began to move, her muscles were the best kind of sore, from strenuous use. 

She stretched as she stood, delighting in the soreness as she moved. She changed, pulling on a clean tunic and breeches before she left her room. Her stomach rumbled loudly, she hadn’t eaten since midday the day before. 

She rounded the corner and was nearly barrelled over by Cullen carrying a tray full of food. 

“Sorry!” she halted in the hallway. 

“My fault, I was…” he looked at her and faltered, “I was going to bring you some food.”

His face had turned an endearing shade of pink, and she eyed the tray, “All of this, for me?”

“I...uh...I thought...that is if you wanted to...eat together,” he managed. 

“That’s great!” she said a little too loudly. She winced and they stood in awkward silence.

“Where should we eat?” she stammered.

“My office?” he looked down at her with a smile. 

Mara nodded, “Perfect.”

The nervousness between them seemed to dissipate as they settled into the tasks required to settle in his office. Mara cleared off the small table in front of the couch while Cullen arranged the food, it was one of the nicest things anyone had done for her. She watched with a smile on her face as he worked. 

“What?” Cullen met her gaze as he sat down next to her. 

She chuckled, “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.” It was true, she’d never been even remotely close to someone the way she was with him. 

“Oh, really?” he smiled crookedly, a look of pride on his face. 

She picked at a corner of a roll in her hand, “Um, how’s the shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing to worry about. Did you sleep well?” He asked. 

“Yes,” she said between mouthfuls. 

Cullen leaned back into the cushions turning towards her, arm along the back of the couch, “You still mad at me?”

She nearly choked on her food as she laughed, “I don’t think so. Is that why you decided to bring me food?”

He chuckled, “Ah, you discovered my plan.”

Their laughter melted into a somewhat uncomfortable silence, both eating their food and avoiding looking at the other. 

“So….talking….we need to do that,” she interrupted the quiet. 

“We do,” he agreed, expression darkening. 

She noticed he hesitated before he reached for her, as if he was unsure how she might respond. Her hand slid easily into his, fingers lacing and she vowed to reach for him more often, so that hesitancy disappears. She wondered what it was I n his past that kept him from trusting completely.

She looked up into his face, speaking the word carefully, “Gregory.” The name fell heavy between them, and she knew what Cullen’s eyes drifted to at the words. 

“I accused you of being unfeeling,” he said, words barely above a whisper.

“I just….I remember every single one of them. Even the ones whose names I never knew. I saw him lying there and I couldn’t feel anything. I was numb for hours and then it just all came out at once,” she tried to explain. 

“I found the clearing, the ice magic,” Cullen’s words dig deep in her skin. She knew he could feel her stiffen as they sat side by side. Her stomach knotted and churned at his revelation. She panicked, her ingrained habit of running was like an itch on her skin. 

She swallowed hard, “When?” 

“Before the funeral.”

She wanted to move. Leave. The shame was building inside her, she wished he didn’t know. How could he possibly know and want her there? She pushed away from him, moving from the comforting embrace of his arms, she kept her eyes down not wanting to look at him. 

He stopped her, gently, still giving her the option to flee. She stopped as one of his hands came to rest on her shoulder, “Mara, talk to me.”

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, “I lost control.” She still refused to look at him, afraid of what she would see. 

“Hey,” his voice was soft and calming as he brought her eyes to meet his. His face was kind, there was none of the fear or condemnation she expected to see. “You didn’t lose control. Losing control would have been turning the infirmary into an ice cave. You went to a place far away from here and let it out.”

She bit her lip as he spoke, turning his words over and trying to see what he saw. She fought the shame that coursed within her. She remembered Keeper Deshanna’s words had been similar, careful, loving. A similar show of magic had occurred after her parent’s deaths, but Keeper Deshanna had found her, alone amongst walls of ice. She had braced herself for the admonishment that never came. Deshanna had picked her up and took her back to the camp, soft words of encouragement the only ones whispered. 

“You’re in control. I trust you,” the words were important ones, perhaps the most important he’d ever spoken to her. She knew their weight coming from him. 

She let him pull her to rest her head against his shoulder. He ran steady, reassuring fingers through her hair and she held tightly to his words. They stayed like that for a while. Even though their conversation was stilted, filled with pauses that meant they were picking their words carefully, and despite their reluctance to meet each other’s eyes there was something in all of this that felt right. 

“I never wrote Cassandra,” he confessed the words into her hair. 

She wiped her eyes before propping herself up to face him, “What?”

“I tried, several times. But telling her not to send the next group...I just...I wasn’t sure how to tell her. It felt like failing in some way,” he waited expectantly, waited for her to be angry probably. 

She wasn’t angry at all, but every word she thought to speak felt wrong in her mouth. She remained silent, looking at Cullen. 

“Why were you going to leave?” he asked. 

The question caught her off guard, “It’s what I do.”

“What?” his eyes watch her, ever the tactician, trying to read her. 

“Leave. I never stay long and it felt like it was time to go. It didn’t feel like I could do anything here. Fix anything. Heal anything. And then there was everything with you. It was easier,” she looked away from him, not sure she wanted to meet his eyes. 

“And now?” she knows his question is about if she’s staying, his doubt is a consequence they will suffer for her cowardice. 

“I’m staying Cullen,” she repeated, “But I want you to know. Even when I was leaving, I still believed in the clinic. In you.”

“Really?” Cullen’s hand drew shapes in her palm.

She swallowed hard, “Maybe we don’t put them off.” They both retreated to the comfort that was talking about the clinic, distancing themselves from the hurt that no doubt still hung under the surface. Apologies were good, needed. But just because apologies are spoken, it doesn’t mean the hurt suddenly disappears. They would both need time, and they would give it to one another.  

His face shifted, lightened, “You said we weren’t ready.” But his voice is full of hope. 

“We’re not, but we could be,” Mara picked her words carefully, “We’re going to need help. A lot of help. Besides, without a new group things will be very quiet around here once Nathaniel and Beatrice leave.”

“I never was very good with quiet,” Cullen remarked. 

She smiled, “Me either.” 

His voice was soft, “Thank you. We can do this.” 

“There was something else…” she looked at him willing the words to come. She has repeated them often enough in her head, wanted to make sure she got them right. Set things right on her end. 

He waited, always patient, but his face was grave. She steeled herself before she continued, “What I said about you trying to work yourself to death - it was out of line. I didn’t know you then, just the rumors. I shouldn’t have judged what I didn’t know.”

“Perhaps you weren’t wrong,” he said quietly. He took a deep breath, “I never wanted to die, not exactly. But there were days, especially when the withdrawals were at their worst that I sort of wanted to stop existing. Not permanently, but for a while. Work was a distraction. When I couldn’t sleep I worked, when the headaches pounded, I worked. When my throat was so dry it hurt to speak for want of lyrium, I worked.”

She gave his hand a soft squeeze, a sign of comfort as she watched his eyes drift back to a time only he could see. 

He continued, “I gave everything I had to the Inquisition and rarely took care of myself the way that I should have. I still often deal with my troubles the same way. You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not trying to push you away.”

His face was so earnest as he spoke, many promises on his lips. But there was a pleading quality to his voice that tugged at her heart. She let go of his hand, and for a moment he looked panicked until she moved his arm so she can settle against his chest, arms around his waist. He didn't respond at first and she could imagine the look of surprise on his face, the air of incredulity that seemed to be following them since last night. 

“Cullen,” she began, “there’s nothing to forgive, we all deal differently. You’ll just have to not hate me when I drag you away from work and make you eat and sleep.”

His arms curled around her and she couls feel his face in her hair, his hot breath against her scalp. She closed her eyes and leaned in, relishing in the contact. 

“I can live with that,” he said. 

She snuggled into his chest, his heartbeat a steady drum under her ear. She very nearly told him then, every last secret she still carried with her. But there was plenty of time for them to learn each other, to share every sharp truth she knew they both hid from the world. 

“No more apologies for before. We just move forward.”

“I’d like that,” she felt him press a kiss to her head and she smiled. In the quiet of his office in the afternoon light she pulled him closer. Everything felt right. 

“So, you’re going to be the one to tell your family, yes?”  

***

The weeks that followed were busy ones, everyone worked tirelessly to make as many preparations for the next group of templars to arrive as possible. Despite everything that had happened, there was renewed faith in their cause from all involved. Mara hired two part-time healers to assist with the next group of Templars. Cullen continued to lead training to help Nathaniel and Beatrice and now Mara felt like she could ogle from the infirmary without feeling too embarrassed about the whole thing. 

Training was long done for the day when Cullen walked into the infirmary, letter in hand. They’d agreed that they needed to approach the situation in Denerim very carefully. Cullen had written again to Sera and Cassandra. Cullen had wanted to keep the whole business as quiet as possible, to avoid any concern from his siblings or the templars in the clinic. 

“Would you like to take a walk?” Cullen held out the letter and Mara knew it was about Denerim. 

She stood from her desk, taking the letter, “Of course.”

As soon as they were out of the house she opened the letter and began reading, Cullen walked silently beside her as she read. The letter, more of a note than a true letter was short and to the point. 

 

_ Whoever is making red lyrium can eat it. Wait - no that’s bad. Don’t do anything until we arrive. We’re traveling again, be there in plenty of time to get to Denerim. I’ll get in touch with Jennies. DON’T DO ANYTHING.  _

_ -S _

 

There were pictures of bees and flowers and possibly a hand making a very lewd sign, but Mara wasn’t sure. 

“We’re coming?” she asked. 

“I assume Dagna - her wife - is coming too,” Cullen responded, taking the letter and placing it in his pocket. 

It was a clear blue autumn day, leaves littered the gravel path they walked on the road towards Denerim. It seemed that they were often walking that road, but not really going anywhere. Mara worried at her bottom lip. 

“So we wait for them?” 

Cullen nodded, “Yes. Sera will have far more contacts in Denerim than I could ever hope to find, and if there is something to be found there, she will find it.”

Mara sighed, the waiting made her anxious, but there was nothing to be done for it. Cullen’s arms hung at his sides and she slid her small hand into his bigger ones. He started a little at the contact before enveloping her hand in his and smiling down at her. His smile turned her stomach into butterflies, and she knew that someday she’d reach for his hand and he wouldn’t be so surprised. 

“So they’ll be arriving about the same time Cassandra is coming?” Mara asked as they meandered down the road. 

“Yes, I was hoping Cassandra might be of help in all of this too. I haven’t received word from her yet,” Cullen said. 

“We’re going to be pushing it with the next group of templars,” she commented. Based on the timeline of the first group, they’d barely be in their own rooms by the time they needed to leave for Denerim. Cassandra’s visit had been planned with that in mind, but it would be incredibly difficult for them to leave with the Templars in such a state. 

Cullen nodded, “I had thought of that. I think we need to embrace the possibility that only one of us will be able to go.”

Mara wasn’t sure she wanted to think about the possibility of one of them not going to see this through to the end, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. So, have you said anything to your siblings yet?”

Cullen rubbed his neck with his free hand, “No. I’m not sure how to bring it up, honestly. I wish Barris would just tell them all for us.”

Mara laughed, “Barris wouldn’t say a word.”

“I know,” Cullen laughed with her, “the bastard.” 

He then became very serious, “Please don’t misunderstand, it’s not that I don’t want to tell them about us. It’s just that I’ve never done this before. Even when there was something to tell before, it was always in letters. Mia would pry and I would give her half answers.”

“I’m sure she loved that,” she smiled. 

“She took that about as well as could be expected,” Cullen kicked a rock down the road. 

Mara stopped and faced him, “There’s no rush you know. This can be just ours as long as you want it to be.”

“Since we’re being so discreet?” his scarred lip rose at the corner in a smirk. 

She smiled, “Well I am kissing you in the middle of a busy road, near the bustling city of South Reach.”

Cullen looked doubtfully in both directions, “Oh wait, there might be a caravan coming.” 

She looped her arm around his neck and pulled him down to her height to kiss him against smiling lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we talk about how this surpassed 200 Kudos with the last chapter?! I was screaming! Thank you! Sorry about the small absence. I spent all of last week with my novel, hopefully there's enough fluff here to make up for that. As always, I really want to know what you think, let me know below. <3


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Mara's relationship progresses. Mia finally confronts Cullen about the past. Beginning of chapter is just the tiniest bit NSFW.

It was his own screams that wrenched him from the Fade into the pitch black night. Cullen found himself scrambling to escape the bed, blankets tangled around his legs like the hands that had been clawing at his body just moments ago. He leapt from the bed, nearly tripping in his effort to escape the horrors he wasn’t quite sure weren’t real. He searched the darkness for shadows and demons that were only in his mind. With shaking hands he managed to get a candle lit. He held it in his hands while he whipped around the room, the small flame sputtering with every turn. 

Nothing there. 

He took several steadying breaths and began listing truths in his head. _I am in South Reach. Not Kinloch._ He ran his fingers across the sharp edge of the dresser. _I am at the estate. Not outside the Harrowing Chamber._ _I am no longer a Templar. It wasn’t real._ His breaths began to come more evenly, but he still jumped at the quiet knock at his door. 

_ Just a nightmare _ , he repeated as he crossed the small room, candle still in hand. Mara stood in loose sleep clothes, hair disheveled and green eyes reflecting the dim light of the candle. There was worry in every tired line of her face. 

He knew why she was here. He took care of every nightmare, the screams that wracked the house were almost always soothed by him. She would have recognized the screams as his, known that there was no one else to be there for him. His nightmares were often far more quiet than this and his gaze fell to the floor in shame. Cursed himself for not being able to hide them better. 

“Hey,” she whispered, “everything okay?”

He nodded mutely. She didn’t move from the doorway and he wished she would, but knew that she wouldn’t until he asked her to. She’d seen these lyrium deprived dreams before, knew that sometimes the Fade bled into reality in ways she couldn’t understand. She knew he was haunted by ghosts induced by more than the absence of the electric blue liquid in his veins, even if she didn’t know what they were. 

Mara had seen the lie in his nodding, but she wouldn’t press him. She turned away, bare feet padding silently along the floorboards. 

“Mara,” his voice rasped. 

She stopped, looking back at him expectantly.

He swallowed hard, “Do you mind…would you...maybe stay?”

She responded with a tired smile, coming into his room and closing the door soundlessly behind her. Cullen set the candle on the bedside table before collapsing onto the bed, his head in his hands. 

He could feel Mara’s tentative movements as she sat down beside him. She didn’t touch him, but he wanted her to. He wished she would give him the anchor he so desperately needed. They hadn’t spoken much of his past, but she knew enough to be careful, to wait until he gave her some intimation of what he needed. He hesitated to ask, so they sat in silence. 

Quietly her voice drifted towards him, “Cullen, do you want to talk about it?” It was the same question he asked the others once it seemed like the nightmares had faded enough. 

He turned his head towards her, “No.”

She didn’t look rejected or hurt as he thought perhaps she would at his refusal. He reached towards her, stilled his hand before actually touching her. Why on earth should she want to be here, be touched by someone as broken and sullied as him? All of that old anxiety built up in his chest. The whispers of not being good enough, the words that always seemed to carry more weight in the darkness than they ever did in the light. 

Her hand closed the distance between them, saving him from gathering the courage himself. Her fingers were cold, always were, but he took a special pride in the intimacy of knowing such a thing about her. The skin under her eyes was darker than usual with lack of sleep. Her loose tunic had slid off one shoulder and he found himself enthralled by the bare skin, the smattering of freckles along the delicate curve of it. He longed to place a kiss there, to move along her bare collarbone up to her lips. He stopped his thoughts, unsure if the casual touch would be welcome. 

She shuddered and he could feel the gooseflesh puckering on her arm, “You’re cold.” Without thinking of propriety or appropriateness he pulled her into his arms and down onto the bed, covering them both with a blanket. She settled against him, one arm draped across his torso and head pillowed by his arm. 

She twisted to look at him, “Thank you.”

As close as she was he found it hard to focus on her face and the riot of blonde hair that splayed out over his arm. The warmth and presence of her body pressed against his was more comforting than he thought it would be. 

He tried not to focus on the angles of their bodies, on how easy it would be to press her onto her back and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. His fingers had found some exposed skin on the small of her back where her tunic ridden up and he tried not to think about running his hands over more of her body. Instead, he focused on the way she rested her head against his chest, as if she was listening to his heartbeat. 

He lay very still, and before long her even breathing told him she had fallen asleep. There was a certain vulnerability in sleeping with another, and Cullen took that for the compliment that it was. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead and lay back, eyes on the ceiling. 

His dreams after that were feverish - hot and then cold. His mind imagining all of the things he could do with her in his bed, the noises he could elicit, the places he could press his lips against. And when he drifted to consciousness he felt immediately ashamed at the thoughts he’d had for her while she slept in his arms. He tried to focus on the pain in his arm from her laying on it for hours instead of the uncomfortable strain against his not quite loose enough sleep pants. 

He took a deep breath and tried to shift a little in an effort to relieve the aching creeping up his arm now that he was awake. His movements roused her, he saw the furrow of her brow and the fluttering of her eyelids as she came to. She looked confused at first and then smiled easily up at him. 

“Good morning,” he whispered. 

“Morning,” she said as she stretched, rolling her neck and moving out of the circle of his arms before coming back, arm propping her up. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked. 

“I did, and you?” she smiled. 

“No more nightmares.”

“Good,” she searched his face for a moment before leaning forward to kiss him. Her lips moved against his in familiar patterns. Since their kiss in the infirmary, they’d had a handful of moments together and Cullen could still hardly believe that Mara wanted him the same way he wanted her. He slid his fingers into her hair to deepen the kiss, tongue moving with hers. She sighed at the contact and almost without thinking about it he flipped them so that he was above her, their legs tangled together. 

He paused a moment before kissing her again. He was a little taken back by his forwardness, but she looked up at him with nothing but affection in her gaze. That was all the encouragement he needed, his lips crashed down upon hers, the hand not cradling her head exploring tentatively down the curve of her waist. His fingers fisted in the soft cotton of her shirt, holding himself back from wrenching it higher. Her hands moved as well, running down his chest and back. A groan escaped his lips as her nails ran across the exposed flesh of his arms.

He broke away from her mouth, kissing down the column of her neck. She arched it to give him more access. When he nipped cautiously her hips moved against his as her fingers dug into his shoulders. Pleasure exploded behind his eyelids at the relief the friction had given him, it didn’t last nearly long enough. He soothed the skin he’d nipped with the brush of his tongue. Her hips jerked again and he sucked in an unsteady breath as he thrust forward. He bit back another groan as he moved back to her lips, kissing her deeply as they moved together. 

If they continued like that he wouldn’t want to stop, was already finding it difficult to think with the smell and feel of her surrounding him. It was all moving too quickly, as much as he wanted her she deserved better than this. It took all of his willpower to pull back from her, put some distance between them. 

She was breathing hard as she looked up at him, green eyes bright. He could still feel her under him, so he rolled to the side, giving her more space. 

“You are incredible, you know that?” he breathed as he wrapped an arm around her. 

She smiled as her cheeks colored, “I think the same could be said about you.”

He chuckled, but her face became very serious. 

“I should tell you,” she bit her lip, eyes looking past him, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?” he asked, confused. 

She sighed and gestured between them, “This.”

“Oh?” Cullen breathed suddenly very conscious of his actions just moments before, “Never?”

She laughed, “Don’t look at me like that!”

He paused, swallowing and looking back to her, trying not to be utterly embarrassed that just moments before he had been rutting into her like an animal. Maker, if he’d known. 

She swatted at his arm, “Seriously, I’m not entirely inexperienced just….with that.”

“You know that I’m no…” he was going to say virgin, but suddenly the word felt too heavy in his mouth.

“Oh...I know,” she giggled looking at him sheepishly. He could feel his cheeks burn.  

He decided to switch the topic back to her, “You certainly don’t kiss like someone inexperienced.”

“Oh there’s been kissing. Not quite like  _ that.  _ It might have happened once. There was another mage, first in his clan as well. We met at the Arlathvhen. It may have gone further, but Keeper Deshanna caught us and took me back to my parents. I’d never seen them so angry. Two years later they died and after, it was never important. I never viewed it as a casual thing, and there hasn’t been anyone in my life more than casually for a long time,” she admitted. 

“There was a time when it was more casual, more an attempt to take back something that was taken from me,” he whispered, memories of his past bubbling up, “It...didn’t really work for me.”

Mara nodded, he could see questions in her eyes. She didn’t ask. 

He took a deep breath, “In Kinloch. You know the tower was taken over by abominations?” She nodded so he continued, “They captured me. Played with my mind, did things to me.”

Her eyes widened, “Cullen….”

“The nightmares still haunt me. Have since. Without lyrium they’re worse,” he whispered. 

A stormy expression was on her face, a mixture of anger and sorrow, “And last night I came….” Her words trailed off. 

Sensing her concern, “No, no. If I hadn’t wanted you there I wouldn’t have asked you to stay. I just needed some time before I could feel you and not them.”

“I understand,” she wrapped her fingers around his.

“I’m sorry if I pushed you this morning,” he murmured, still feeling too conscious of his actions. 

She laughed, “You didn’t. It was a little... _ unexpected. _ But not unwelcome.”

“I’d like to be very clear, I would never push you. We only move as quickly as you want to,” he promised. 

“As we both want to, together,” she amended. 

He smiled and kissed her softly, “Agreed.”

“We should probably get going for the day,” Mara twisted to see how bright the light was out of the window. 

They hadn’t told anyone else but Barris yet, and Mara leaving his room in the morning would definitely raise questions he was not prepared to answer. He kissed her temple as he stood,  “I’ll check to make sure the coast is clear.”

***

There were only three days until the next group of templars was due to arrive. Time seemed to be moving quickly and slowly all at once. Cullen was not only making preparations for the new group, but also for the impending trip to Denerim. He didn’t dare say it to Mara, but he very much planned on being the one to go. That way she could be here safe with his family and the clinic. Not that she really needed protecting. He fully expected her to pull a dagger on him when he told her. But no final decisions had been made just yet, and so he avoided her ire. For now. 

Mara had been busy training the two new healers. She knew them from her time working at the hospital, which in a small town like South Reach never had quite enough work to keep food on the table working their exclusively. They seemed to be fitting in well, though he’d hardly interacted with them. 

Mara had taken extensive notes about each of the templars during the withdrawal process and they had been invaluable in preparing for the new group. Nathaniel, Beatrice, and Barris had spent a great deal of time with the new healers as well, recalling their experiences and giving insight to what had helped and what hadn’t. 

Nathaniel and Beatrice were getting more and more anxious to leave, and Cullen couldn’t blame them. Over two full months had passed since they’d arrived, the good days had far eclipsed the bad, and they were ready. 

Mara’s announcement to his family that she would stay had been met with excitement from his entire family. Branson had placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled as if he was quietly affirming that Cullen had somehow done the right thing. Cullen couldn’t help but smile at the way Mara seamlessly fit within his family, Maker he’d been so very blind not to see that before. 

He heard the sound of the door opening and the running of feet into the infirmary. Mia was putting on a big dinner tonight, a sort of going away for Nathaniel and Beatrice. Cullen had insisted she didn’t need to do anything, but his sister was as stubborn as they came. 

“Keep an eye on them and make sure they don’t drive Mara crazy,” Mia’s voice called out. 

Branson’s voice answered, “Of course, but no promises.”

Mia came into his office, “Hard at work I see.” Her blonde hair was pulled back elegantly at the nape of her neck and her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“There’s much to do,” Cullen said, “I needed to talk to you about something.”

Mia raised an eyebrow as she shut the door behind her, “Oh?”

“I have to go to Denerim in a few weeks, I was hoping you, Bran and Rosie would keep an eye on things here. Mara and Barris are more than capable, but I just want to make sure they have help if they need it,” Cullen explained. 

Mia frowned, “Why are you going to Denerim?”

Cullen sighed, “I can’t tell you.” It was better she didn’t know, the fewer people who knew the better. Their ignorance could keep them safe, and he’d ensure they remained that way. There were some horrors it was better to shield them from. 

Mia’s face darkened, “Why?”

“It’s not important, just something I have to do, Mia,” Cullen said with finality. He realized as soon as the words left his lips that it was the wrong thing to have said. 

His sister had once had the same rage he did, that waited not deep enough below the skin, but he was quickly finding that the Blight and its aftermath had knocked most of it out of her, but it still flared every so often. She was the head of the family, had been since his parents died and she did not take well to being challenged. She’d moved her teenage brother and youngest sister to South Reach all on her own, she didn’t lack strength, she was just careful how she used it. 

Her jaw clenched and he could see her whole body tense, “Not my business. Is that your answer for everything? Don’t pry, Mia. It’s not important, Mia. You wouldn’t understand, Mia.”

He ground his teeth together as she spoke before answering. Her words reminded him of her letters. Words he’d reread over and over again trying to find some way to answer,  “By all means Mia, don’t hold back. You never did in your letters.”

“You mean the ones you regularly went months in between answering?” 

He ran a hand down his face. Remembering the letters that had sat untouched in his desk drawers. Mia’s letters were always long and descriptive, but almost always tinged with disappointment at the lack of response from him. Everytime he’d seen the letters he’d been filled with guilt, for not replying sooner, for not telling her more. He was never quite sure how. “You had no idea what I was going through.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Mia’s eyes flashed, “All I’ve heard are rumors of what happened in Kinloch and Kirkwall, you conveniently dodged all my questions over the years.”

“Mia…” he growled. 

“You don’t get to decide what is or isn’t need to know information. Not here,” Mia said. 

He swallowed his anger, trying not to yell, “With this I do.”

“No. That is not how family works. I get that you haven’t been part of ours for a while, but we don’t have secrets. I let the whole you and Mara thing go because I thought, maybe she asked you to keep it quiet, but then this. Why is it so damn hard for you to talk to me?” Mia shouted. 

He stood silently, she didn’t wait for any more of a response. 

“I never gave up on you. Not all that time. Andraste’s fucking sword, we didn’t even know if you were alive because you never bothered to tell us. Did we mean that little to you? I thought maybe when you were here in person things would change, but you’re still pulling the same shit you always have. You were never there when we needed you. You could have asked for a transfer, could have come here, been here. You didn’t,” Mia’s tone was accusing and every word struck him like fiery arrows. 

There it was, the accusations he’d waited for since arrived in South Reach, the fear that too much time had passed, that too much had happened for things to ever be alright with his family. He had no defense, except that he believed they didn’t need him, that he was no longer the brother they knew, that it was better that way. And his self-righteous belief that he was somehow needed at the Gallows seemed so flimsy now he knew how it all had turned out. 

“I believed I was needed more in Kirkwall,” Cullen managed. 

“More than with your own family? Our parents died Cullen, or did you forget?” 

His careful control snapped, “They were my parents too! I did what I could, I sent money, I tried.”

“Not nearly hard enough. You could have been there. Or at the very least responded to my letters a little faster,” Mia spat, “You realize that when dad died Branson, who was fifteen by the way, had to step into the role that was yours to fill. The burden should have been on you, but you weren’t there. No amount of money replaces the fact you weren’t there when we needed you.”

“I….Mia…. -” his words faltered as his anger ebbed, replaced with guilt.  

“Look, I’ll not pretend to understand what you went through as long as you quit pretending like you understand what we went through when mum and dad died,” Mia said the words quietly, the years apart settling between them. 

He opened his mouth to speak, was silenced by a her hand held up, “Don’t. I’m leaving.” She walked out, slamming the door behind her a she went. 

He stared at the door still rattling in its hinges from the force of her closing it. He wondered if all these years he’d been making reparations for the wrong sins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides face* I know that the beginning wasn't exactly NSFW, but I tagged it anyways because I thought I'd err on the side of caution. It's the most NSFW thing I've ever shared and I'm already blushing just thinking about you folks reading it. Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think? <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branson and Mara pick up the pieces after Mia and Cullen's fight.

Clara and Liam ran with abandon through the garden. They were playing some sort of game and as far as Mara could tell Liam was pretending to be a knight of some sort while chasing his sister who was pretending to be a dragon. Henry was curled up in her arms, head tucked into the crook of her neck. She and Branson were on the back steps supervising the kids. 

“Someone refused to take his nap today,” Branson said ruffling his son’s dark curly hair. 

“Oh, so that’s why we’re so tired and it’s not even dinner time yet,” Mara chuckled. 

“You know he’s been calling you ‘Aunty Mara’ lately. Clara has worked herself up into a huff trying to explain to him that you’re not their aunt until you marry me or Cullen,” Branson laughed.

Mara couldn’t contain her laughter at that, “Are they taking bets or something?” 

Branson smiled at her knowingly, “No, but the rest of us might be.”

“You should be focusing more on Barris and Rosalie,” Mara quipped. 

Branson looked around the yard in the dying light, “Where did the two of them sneak off to?”

Mara laughed, “Probably looking for some time alone, and I can’t blame them.”

“You know a lot about that?” Branson teased. 

Mara was thinking of some witty comeback when she thought she heard yelling coming from inside the house. 

“What is that?” she looked to Branson. 

Branson frowned, “Uh oh.”

“What?”

“I’d recognize the sound of a Mia dressing down all the way from Orlais. I wonder what Cullen did to set her off?” Branson looked back at the house with worried curiosity. 

“You sure they’re fighting and it’s not something else?” she asked, skeptical. 

She heard the sound of a door slamming, and Branson shook his head, “I’m sure.”

She nodded, rocking Henry a little as they stood there, Branson kept glancing back to the house. She realized this wasn’t something they would be staying out of, “Do you want to take Cullen or Mia?” 

“You go to Mia,” Branson said holding out his arms for Henry. She transferred Henry as gently as she could. 

“Is everything going to be okay?” Mara asked. 

Branson sighed, “Mia’s been fighting in Cullen’s corner for too long to give up on him now.”

“But if she wants to start throwing punches, I’d watch that,” he joked over his shoulder as he walked away. 

Humor was the way Branson coped with everything. Mara had learned that. He always had a joke ready, but it was never mean usually self-deprecating if anything. It hid an underlying seriousness that was only there if you looked for it. Mara always thought Mia to be the most level-headed of the siblings, but the more she got to know Branson she realized he could probably outpace Mia. She cast one last look over her garden and went in search of Mia.

Mara stood outside the kitchen listening to the banging of pots and pans, the tell-tale sign that Mia was not being careful at all. She took a deep breath before pushing open the door and hoped she might be able to help. 

Mia looked up as she entered and her eyes immediately narrowed, “Let me guess, you and Bran decided to tag team and you drew the short straw?”

Mara crossed her arms, “Apparently.”

Mia glared in response. 

A fire was already blazing in the hearth and the kitchen looked welcoming and homely and would have felt that way were it not for the ice in Mia’s stare. Mara sighed, this wasn’t actually helping, “I wanted to make sure things were okay. Do you need some help?” Mia directed her to some vegetables that needed peeling and chopping and she set to work.  

They stood in silence for a few moments before Mia spoke. Mara couldn’t help but see the parallels between Mia and her brother, how Mara had so often out waited Cullen’s silence and now she was doing the same with Mia. She knew Mia probably needed the time, the silence to compose herself. They were friends, but Mara didn’t for one second believe she was the best person for this conversation.  

The Mia finally spoke and Mara let out breath of relief, “I totally lost it with Cullen.”

“Any particular reason?” Mara didn’t look up from her work.

“Ever since he got back I was the one telling my siblings not to bring up things, that we’d find a way to work everything out without ruining everything. And here I am, not even listening to myself,” Mia’s words were clipped, anger still filled them. 

“I doubt you ruined anything,” Mara assured her. 

“Why didn’t he want to tell us he was with you?” Mia asked words tinged with more disbelief than anger. 

Mara brought herself to meet her eyes. Was that what this was about? “I...he said he wasn’t sure how...and I...I didn’t push him on it. I knew he’d tell you eventually. How’d you know?”

“The fool,” Mia spat, “He’s a void-taken coward is what he is. And really? The way you two look at each other, it was obvious.”

Mara didn’t speak, trying to stay focused on the vegetables she was chopping. What could she say except that she’d never meant for her presence to cause issues with Cullen’s siblings. She kept her eyes down the only sound in the kitchen the rhythmic sound of her knife on the cutting board. 

Mia seemed to sense her discomfort, “Oh Mara. I’m sorry. That makes me sound rather like I’m unhappy about of this. We love you, and we’re happy. I just wanted him to tell us.”

Mara nodded. 

“He’s always kept so many secrets. I was an idiot to think that would change when he came here. That we could repair all the damage. I just want him to tell me things, is that too much to ask?” Mia bit her lip and Mara could see the tears in her eyes. 

Mara didn’t speak, stood there uselessly. 

“What’s in Denerim?” Mia asked tears falling steadily down her cheeks. 

Mara considered not answering, decided to keep as much to herself as she could, “Answers that we need.”

Mia didn’t speak, but then Mara froze, “How do you know about Denerim?”

“Cullen told me, asked me to watch out for you and Barris while he’s gone,” Mia said, “He wouldn’t tell me why he was going.”

“Cullen is planning on going?” Mara asked trying to process that information. Last they’d spoken they’d both agreed that they weren’t making firm plans yet. Mara was not about to simply let him make that decision without her. 

Mia ran a hand down her face, “Great. He didn’t tell you either.”

Mara wasn’t feeling exactly generous towards Cullen, but didn’t want to give Mia any more ammunition, “I’m sure we’ll be talking about it. We did agree that only one of us should go.”

“Why?” Mia asked. 

“Someone has to keep the clinic running,” Mara shrugged. 

“That someone doesn’t have to be either of you,” Mia put her hands on her hips. 

Mara looked at Mia, a little astounded at the offer, “We’ll see what happens.”

Mia wiped off her face, “If we don’t get this dinner going no one will eat until midnight.”

***

Mara shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She sat on the opposite end of the table from Cullen. Branson sat with him, but Cullen was sullen and far more quiet than usual. Mia had put on a good face laughing and joking while holding tightly to Matthew’s hand. If Mara hadn’t been looking for it, she would have never seen the tightness in her eyes when she spoke. No one really wanted to bring down the goodbye party for Nathaniel and Beatrice. Mara tore her eyes away from Cullen and tried to listen to the story that Barris was telling. 

“And then the Knight-Captain told him that if he didn’t want to be on latrine duty for a month he best put back all of the apples,” Barris laughed and Rosie’s giggles joined his. 

Mara smiled, no laughter being able to break through the mood set a few hours before. Her mind drifted back to her and Mia’s conversation in the kitchen. She wanted so badly to fix this, to help, but she looked across the table at Cullen and knew that it was all on him. 

“I’m sorry, that story is usually much funnier,” Barris looked at her with concerned eyes. 

Mara snapped her attention back to Barris, “I’m sure it was funny. I was just distracted. I apologize.”

Rosie had been pulled into conversation with Beatrice and Barris turned his attention to Mara, she noticed that he still held Rosie’s hand under the table. 

“Mara, what’s wrong?” Barris asked quietly. 

She toyed with the sleeve of her tunic, pushing the fabric up her forearm, revealing more of the intricate lines of her vallaslin. She followed the familiar blue lines as she spoke, “Nothing really. It doesn’t really concern me.” 

It was true, this mess was Cullen’s to fix. She even found it hard to be angry with him over the assumption he would be the one going to Denerim alone. He was just being pragmatic, trying to make plans and she knew that. 

“Rosie told me what happened. You should talk to him,” Barris suggested. 

She hadn’t had the chance to speak to him since she’d gone to see Mia. She wasn’t sure if he really wanted to speak with her right now, or with anyone for that matter. 

“If he wants to speak with me he will,” Mara said to Barris lowly. 

Barris frowned, “You’re sure?” 

Her eyes flicked back to Cullen, or where Cullen should have been. His chair stood empty, he’d managed to slip away without her noticing. Her heart sank a little, and she decided she needed to find him. 

“I’m going,” she said and Barris offered her a smile in return. 

Most everyone at the table was too deep in conversation or drink to notice her leaving, but Branson met her eyes as she slipped out and gave her the smallest of nods. A silent gesture of encouragement. 

Mara moved silently through the dark house, the sounds of merriment filtered into the empty rooms as she looked for Cullen. She found him in the infirmary. He stood solemnly in front of one of the windows, moonlight casting shadows that made the lines of his face look deeper. He looked more sad than she’d ever seen him. 

“There you are,” she announced her presence. 

He jumped in response before turning to face her, “Hi”

She moved toward him, but didn’t reach out. She was unsure enough about where they stood that she didn’t want to ask those silent questions just yet. Her quiet promise to herself to reach for him more often drifted to the forefront of her mind and she ignored it. She wasn’t sure why she was so hesitant as she felt the anguish rolling off of Cullen in waves, but held back anyway waiting to see what happened.   

“I understand you and Mia had a bit of a row,” Mara said cautiously. 

“A row would imply that it was two-sided,” Cullen said flatly. 

“What happened?” 

“Mia took the opportunity to remind me that I am a terrible brother.” 

“Cullen…”

He moved away from her then, his hand running through his hair in agitation, “You should be questioning me. Questioning everything. I spent these last few years trying to atone for all of the things I did as a templar. My attitude towards mages, the things I did in the name of the Chantry, these were the things I thought I had to fix. And all this time my family was suffering and I did nothing.”

Mara said nothing, sensing there was more he wanted to say. 

He looked down at her pain in his eyes, “Mia said I should have transferred here after Kinloch instead of to Kirkwall. I’d never considered that as a possibility. But I was not the brother they would have needed back then. For a long time I thought it better if they just forgot about me. I look around here and they didn’t need me, they did just fine without me. That’s what I thought, and I was wrong. Because I wasn’t there. Not for anything that mattered.” Cullen’s voice cracked a little on the last words. 

“You can’t change that now. You can just try to make things better going forward,” Mara moved closer to Cullen, was relieved when he didn’t pull away from her. She was simply going to place her hand on his arm, but was surprised when he opened his arms and pulled her to his chest. 

Cullen held her tightly, she could feel his body shaking and his cheek against her hair. She let a few moments pass before she broke the silence, “What did Bran say?”

“He didn’t sugarcoat anything. Talked about Mia and how she’d defended me all these years. How much it hurt them, her especially when I didn’t write. When I didn’t tell them I’d transferred to Kirkwall or Haven or once we got to Skyhold. I didn’t have any idea how bad it was, I knew she was angry, rightfully so...but I had never considered…..”

His words trailed off as he pulled her closer. “I don’t know how to fix this,” he whispered, “if it can even be fixed.”

She pulled back to look at him, “Perhaps there is some credit in trying.”

His head cocked, “That’s the second time you’ve said that to me.”

“They’re your words, not mine,” she said remembering that night in his office after being Silenced and then the infirmary. Both felt like a lifetime ago. 

He let out a shaky breath, “They are.”

“Maybe it’s time you start believing them,” she said. She felt his arms tighten around her and she hoped that he would. 

***

It was the final day before the new group was scheduled to arrive and Mara was working in the infirmary. She was trying to relish in the peace and quiet that existed within the estate. She knew that in just few days this place would feel so very different, but perhaps it wouldn’t be quite as harrowing as the last. They were much more prepared this time around she reminded herself, they had more help and more experience. 

Cullen had kept to himself since their conversation and Mara knew she shouldn’t push, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit bothered by his distance. She distracted herself with work and hadn’t missed the irony in that. 

When she heard footfalls announcing someone entering the infirmary, Nathaniel was the last person she expected. He was carrying a package and wore a serious expression. He looked so changed from the man who had arrived at the estate just a few short months ago. He’d grown a beard and his dark hair had grown out longer than the close cropped style he’d worn when he arrived. 

“Nathaniel,” she greeted him with a smile. 

“I have something for you,” he said holding out the package to her. 

“Oh,” she took the package from his outstretched hands. She could count one hand the number of times she’s received gifts for something other than her Nameday. Gifts were not given lightly in Dalish clans, they were usually a signal that one was interested in courting another. Mara had learned in her time with humans that was not the case, that they gave gifts freely and often. Still, she was touched by the gesture.

She pulled the twine loose and opened the thin box, inside was an apron made of pretty sky blue material. 

“It has lots of pockets, I thought it might be useful when caring for patients. Maker knows we ruined enough of your tunics when you cared for us,” Nathaniel stammered, obviously nervous. 

Mara laughed, “It’s so beautiful, I might not want to wear it and risk ruining it. Thank you.”

“You like it?” he asked. 

“Very much so. May I ask why?” she hoped he wouldn’t be offended, but she wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve something so kind. 

His eyes were kind, “You need to ask? Mara you’re the reason I’m standing here. You never gave up on me, even when you had very good reason to. I wanted to say thank you because without you I would not be joining the Seekers, I wouldn’t be in recovery, none of it.”

Mara stood there speechless, could feel tears building up in her eyes. 

“I know you were planning on leaving after Gregory died. But you stayed, and that is so important. This clinic needs you. Don’t forget that,” Nathaniel smiled. 

Mara was still at a loss for words so she put the box down on her desk and hugged Nathaniel, hadn’t known just how much of a difference she had made for him. 

“You’re going to be a great Seeker,” she finally managed. 

“Maker I hope so,” Nathaniel replied as she pulled away. 

If there had been any question in her mind of her making the right decision to stay, there wasn’t any longer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this chapter. It's not a long one but it was hard to write because we've got a lot of important character interactions and groundwork happening here. I hoped you enjoyed it and I look forward to hearing what you think! I say this every time, but thank you so much for reading and stopping by, it means a lot. I'm doing a bit of a thank you over on tumblr this week since I reached a follower milestone, the link to that is [here!](http://slothquisitor.tumblr.com/post/143085407631/sloths-150-follower-celebration) Lots of fun happening and I'd love for you to come and participate. I'll be posting the prompts here too under Bits and Pieces of Reparation. There probably won't be any sort of order to them, but I've already got a lovely Rosie and Barris piece I'm posting tonight. You folks are all lovely *insert adorable sloth gif here*. Love you guys!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Mia begin to move forward as the estate prepares for the next group to arrive.

Cullen had too much to do to be worrying about what his sister had said. But it ate at him even as he poured himself into his work. Her words echoed when he tried to sleep and he turned over the years in his hands, seeing them in her perspective. Every choice, every unwritten word, they’d been wounds he’d never meant to inflict. As he worked in his office alone the weight of them would hit him all at once, and he wondered what else he’d missed.

Even when his mind should have been occupied, his thoughts drifted back to his sister. His stomach always churned at the thought, a guilty pit in his stomach that seemed to constantly weigh him down. He should had been paying more attention to what he was doing while he and Branson were carrying in two additional beds for the infirmary and nearly backed right into a wall. It was one of the last things to be done before the next group arrived that evening. 

“You talked to her yet?” Branson asked and Cullen’s thoughts jumped into the present. Cullen didn’t need to ask him who he was referring to to know it was about Mia. 

He shook his head, “No.”

“You should do that soon,” Branson gave him a pointed look. 

They set the bed down in the infirmary and Cullen ran a hand down his face, “What do I even say to her Bran?” He’d been over a thousand different things he could do to try to make this right and came back to the same conclusion, words might not fix this. 

Branson crossed his arms, “I know there are things you don’t want to talk about, and I don’t think that any of us wants  you to sit down and tell us your deepest darkest secrets. But Mia needs  _ something _ .”

“Like?”

“Pick something that’s not high stakes that won’t make either of you that upset. Avoid anything too painful,” Branson suggested, “She just wants you to talk to her.”

Cullen sighed, “I do talk to her.” 

Branson laughed, “Yeah, you talk about work and the farm and the kids. That’s not a relationship with anyone. She’s not one of your soldiers.”

“I’m not very good at this,” Cullen admitted as he moved out of the infirmary to get the second bed. 

“It’s been a long time since you actively tried to be our brother, there’s bound to be tangles along the way,” Branson said quietly. Cullen winced a little at the comment, but Bran was right. He wanted so badly to fix this. Wanted so badly to be the brother they needed, but he was just him and he feared he would always fall short. That there would always be that look of quiet disappointment in his sibling’s eyes as he continued to fail to be what they needed.  

Cullen didn’t reply. 

They stopped at the cart to pick up the second bed when Branson stopped. He rubbed his neck as he looked at him guiltily, “Hey, I didn’t say that to try to make you feel worse about all of this. I think you’ve done more than enough of beating yourself up. I just meant that it’s not something you’re used to, and it’s going to take time.”

Branson was watching him carefully as he replied, “I know what you meant, Bran.” And he did, knew that Branson’s anger at him had somehow burned out, but the pain would probably always linger.

Branson shrugged, “Skull that thick I’m never sure what gets through or what doesn’t.”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed and Branson laughed, head thrown back and a wide grin on his face. Cullen wanted to tackle him, and probably would have, but Bran had been so helpful around the estate the last few days that Cullen found he couldn’t really do much against him. That had probably been his plan all along. 

They carried the bed into the infirmary, setting it against the opposite wall of the other bed they brought in. Branson looked around the infirmary, blue eyes a little sad. 

“What is it?” Cullen asked following his gaze. 

Branson turned to face him, “You’re really ready to do that all over again?”

“Do what?” Cullen asked confused. 

“Bring in a whole new group of Templars. You and Mara were running ragged last time even without her getting Silenced,” Branson said. 

Cullen nodded, “We talked about that. It should be better this time around.” 

“You’re doing good work,” Branson said softly. 

“Is that a compliment? From Branson Rutherford?” Cullen asked incredulously.

Branson shoved him in response. 

***

Cullen paced on the porch outside Mia’s house. He’d been trying to figure out what to say and how to start this conversation the entire walk from the estate to her doorstep. He’d come up blank, and now he was outside her house trying to figure it out. 

Branson had said he needed to talk about something, he could do that but he wasn’t sure what that something should be. One conversation with his sister was not going to fix everything, but he wanted to get things on the right track. He felt impossibly lost. 

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Mia appeared a few moments later, face shifting from a cheerful greeting to an unreadable mask. 

“Can I help you?” she asked coolly. 

Cullen took a deep breath, “I was hoping we could talk.”

Mia nodded and let him in the house, he was relieved. At least she wasn’t completely shutting him out. She sat down at the table picking back up some clothing she had obviously been mending. Cullen sat down opposite of her, staring at his hands. 

“So? You wanted to talk?” she asked, not looking up from her work. 

“Red lyrium,” he said quietly, words a little choked on their way out. 

She paused then, “What about it?”

Cullen took a deep breath, “That’s why I’m going to Denerim. We’ve traced some red lyrium coming from there. Mara seems to think that whoever it is has decided to target me specifically. There’s too many coincidences for it not to be something.”

“And you couldn’t tell me this before because…?” Mia said setting down her work and looking at him at last. 

“I didn’t want to worry anyone, nor did I want it getting out and spooking whoever is behind it,” Cullen admitted.

Mia picked back up her work, “That’s the stupidest reason I’ve ever heard.”

Cullen had to admit it didn’t make a lot of sense now that he considered it. Mia had dealt with far worse; she could have handled it. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Cullen said softly. 

Mia’s eyes still had a tightness to them when she replied, “Apology accepted.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since we last spoke.”

“Okay,” Mia said, watching him carefully. 

“There are a lot of things I don’t have answers to,” he began, “a lot of things that I’m not sure how to tell you. I want to know how to tell you, or anyone some of the things that happened.” He wondered if naming the ghosts would make it more difficult for them to dog his every step. 

“I spent two years not knowing if you survived Kinloch,” Mia said, but the words were more full of sadness and grief than anger. “And the man that came out on the other side of that was so much different than the brother I had sent off to training.”

He felt the weight of the years that separated him from his family settle between them. He’d told her that she’d never held back in her letters, but looking at her across the table told him that she had. That she had always held some of that pain back from him, scared perhaps of what he might do if she let him see it all. He wished he could go back to his younger self, the angry, bitter and broken man he’d been when he arrived in Kirkwall. Wished he could convince him of just a sliver of the truth that his family still loved him, and that his siblings still needed him. He wanted him to feel worthy of it all, then perhaps he wouldn’t be sitting at this table wishing he was worthy of it now.

“I’m not that person anymore,” Cullen confessed, knowing too much had happened for him to ever return to the idealistic man he’d been before Kinloch. 

“I know. Maker knows we all changed too. We had to, survival and all that. I think a part of me hoped that when you came back that it’d bring back a little of who we used to be too,” Mia admitted, eyes skittering away from his. 

“And instead you got me,” he whispered. He’d left them a boy full of optimism and duty and a desire to protect people, he’d returned a broken man. 

“Oh Cullen,” Mia said softly, “You’re still you. That’s enough.” 

He looked to his sister the woman to single-handedly tracked him down more than once, who had never given up on him in all these years and could see the hope she had in him shining in her eyes. 

He didn’t trust his voice to words. Mia didn’t wait for him to respond, “You’re a part of this family, and that means we don’t have secrets. Information isn’t need to know, this isn’t a military operation.”

“I am sorry, for everything,” Cullen said, wishing that he could offer her more. 

Mia looked at him, “I know. I don’t think it’s going to be all wiped out in one afternoon. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Cullen nodded in relief, and they sat there in silence. The only noise the crackling of the fire and the sound of her pulling thread. He remembered Branson’s advice to talk so he did. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

She smiled a little then, “I’m good. I’d be better if Liam would quit ripping holes in the knees of his breeches.”

“Having too much fun playing knights and dragons?” Cullen asked, the tension between them slipping away slowly. 

Mia laughed, “Apparently. How are you? You and Mara ready for another group?”

“I’m fine. Mara is a little stressed, but she’d never say,” Cullen replied. 

“How do you know she’s stressed?” Mia asked. 

Cullen smiled, “She bites her lip and her temper is a little short, you can tell by the way she talks. But she just keeps making ridiculous lists, her desk is covered with them. And when I talk to her about anything she has this need to consult them first.”

“You should see your face when you talk about her,” Mia looked up over her work grinning. 

He snorted, “What about it?”

“She makes you happy.”

“I...uh...very,” Cullen was a little caught off guard by the change in topic. 

Mia spoke slowly, like she was picking her words carefully, “I know you were involved with the Inquisitor, you talked very little about it, but what happened?”

“There was someone else,” he said shortly. 

She paused, “Oh.”

“They’re engaged. A spring wedding is planned as I understand,” he said without ire. 

“And you were happy with her?” Mia asked. 

“I was, but I don’t think I was as happy as I could have been. With Mara it’s so different,” he said.

“Good different?” 

Cullen chuckled, “Yes.”

“She’s good for you, you know. She makes you question things, makes you laugh,” Mia smiled. 

“And here I thought you were going to say she’s too good for me,” Cullen attempted to joke.

Mia laughed then, “Well there’s that too.” 

They spoke for a while. When Matthew came in from the barn with Clara and Liam in tow for lunch Cullen took his leave. He was just a little away from the house when he heard his sister calling at him. 

“Hey, Commander!”

He turned, unsure what to expect, “Try not to be a stranger, okay?”

He nodded and waved, it was a start. Perhaps there was some credit in trying after all. 

***

The envelope was thick and cream colored. His name was etched in its face in elegant script. It was like it appeared because they’d spoken of her. He looked at it hard. He knew what it was, wished a little it hadn’t come at all. He picked up his letter opener and slid it along the seam of the envelope. 

A thick card was inside, embossed with the same elegant script as the envelope. The wedding was in Ostwick on the 22nd of Cloudreach. He was invited as well as any guests he wanted to bring. There was a smaller card, it wasn’t as fancy as the rest of the invitation, something added before it was sent. He picked it up and turned it over. He recognized the writing immediately. 

 

_ I’d love for you to be there. - L _

 

He could hear footsteps approaching and so he slipped both the card and invitation back into the envelope and dropped it in his bottom desk drawer, he could deal with that later. He was happy for Lorraine, she was happier with Edmund than she’d ever been with him. They’d made peace a long time ago, before Edmund joined Lorraine at Skyhold. He even liked Edmund, it was just still a little daunting to imagine being at her wedding to another man even if he was no longer wishing he was that man. 

Mara leaned against the doorframe, “You look troubled.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied.

“How was Mia’s?” she asked. 

“Not terrible,” he admitted, “It was...there’s a lot of work to do.”

She gave him a half smile, “Give it time.”

“There was at least no yelling,” he said hopefully. 

Mara crossed the distance of his office coming so that she was right next to him, leaning casually on the desk, “Is that hope I hear?”

“Maybe,” he grinned and moved closer to her. 

“You ready for this?” she asked. 

He looked into her bright green eyes and without hesitation said, “With you by my side? Yes.”

She shook her head and chuckled, he bent to kiss her cheek. As he pulled away she caught his face with her hands and pulled him back down for a proper kiss. 

He smiled against her lips hands coming to rest on her waist. The kissing might have continued if not for the soft knocking on his office door. They pulled away quickly and Mara’s face was red as she moved a safe distance from him. 

“Come in,” he called. 

Nathaniel and Beatrice entered the room. They were leaving early the next morning, they’d wanted to be there to greet the next group of templars and then they would be on their way to the Seekers. 

“We wanted to make sure that we caught you before the new group arrived,” Beatrice said looking between him and Mara with a look of approval. 

“Yeah, we have something for you,” Nathaniel said, holding out a wrapped package. 

Cullen felt a little awkward as he took the package, “You really didn’t need to do anything.”

“Well, we thought you’d be left out if Mara was the only one getting a goodbye present,” Nathaniel winked at Mara and she laughed. 

“Alright then,” he pulled at the brown wrapping letting it fall away onto his desk. It was a red leather bound book, but it didn’t have a title. He opened it up, most of the pages were blank, but two of them had been written on. He went to take a more careful look when Nathaniel spoke. 

“It’s something for you, each and every person that passes through here can write down their experience. Beatrice and I both wrote ours. One rule, you can’t read them until after we leave,” Nathaniel said, voice suddenly serious. 

“Barris still needs to fill out his page, but that’ll come if he ever leaves. When the days come that are hard and you wonder if you’re doing any good, you can come here and know that you are,” Beatrice explained toying with the end of the long dark braid that hung over her shoulder. 

Cullen looked between the pair of them. A complicated tightness had settled in his chest. He felt both full to bursting with pride at all of the hills and valleys they had passed through to bring them to this point, and a deep sadness that one was missing. They’d done so much, and yet not enough. It was time for them to move on.

“Thank you,” he said gruffly, voice twisted with emotion. 

Nathaniel cleared his throat, “May your example continue to light the way for others.”

“May many find new paths here,” Beatrice smiled, eyes glistening. 

Cullen wasn’t sure what to say, the sudden influx of emotion in the room had left him speechless. They all stood there in silence for a moment. The sound of horses on the road had them all glancing out the window. 

“I think they’re here,” Mara’s voice broke the silence. 

Nathaniel and Beatrice hurried into the foyer, heading outside. Mara slipped her hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“And so it begins again?” she asked. 

He moved forward with her hand in his, “So it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, the Templars arrive the next chapter and then Cassandra's arrival is not far off! I'm getting so giddy about future chapters that sometimes it gets a little hard to focus on the one I'm writing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for reading. All of you are wonderful and I'm just so grateful for all of the love I've felt over this story. <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next group arrives and old fears resurface. Steadily working towards NSFW lol.

Mara hung back, letting Cullen, Barris, Nathaniel and Beatrice greet the arriving group. She liked to observe, to know exactly what she was walking into. It was a habit borne of years hunting with her clan and though she didn’t exactly need to do that, she still did. Cullen didn’t ask why when she stopped at the porch, he had just looked back and she’d given him a nod, silent encouragement to go on. 

The group was large, six templars strong, and Mara was hyper aware that she was outnumbered. One elven mage in a house full of Templars and humans. It hadn’t bothered her as much with the last group, but now, even with Barris and Cullen as allies she felt it. 

The men and women dismounted their horses and looked around the estate. Mara could feel eyes on her. She tried not to shift uncomfortably as Cullen greeted the group. She glanced around and her eyes met a pair of ice blue eyes, gaze as cold as their coloring in an expression of clear distrust. She didn’t look away, a silent challenge. When he tore his gaze away she walked down the steps and greeted the group. 

“Our head healer, Mara,” Cullen smiled as she joined the group. 

“Nice to meet you all,” she smiled warmly. 

One of the women with a long dark braid cascading down her back moved towards her, “I’m Trina.” Her speech was soft and flowing, her Antivan accent making her voice sound more like a purr. 

Mara nodded politely, noticed the other woman in the group was looking amused at the exchange, “Audra, we’re happy to have finally arrived.” Audra was clearly the one in the group in charge, Mara noticed way the others looked to her before moving forward. 

“Why don’t all of you take care of the horses, and I’ll meet you all in the infirmary and when you’re finished,” Mara smiled, glancing to Cullen. 

Cullen led the group around to the barn and Mara went inside to get started. She was organizing her papers and things when she heard footfalls in the hallway and hushed voices. 

“Your healer, trained in a circle?” a man’s voice asked. 

“No. She’s Dalish,” Nathaniel’s voice replied. 

“Nathaniel! How could you not tell me that the head healer is an apostate elf. How can this place be legitimate, how can it be safe?” a man’s voice accused. 

Mara knew she shouldn’t be listening in, but she stopped what she was doing and listened anyway. 

“Hendrick, the Circles are no longer mandatory, let it go. Mara saved my life more than once while I was here. She’s not a danger, in fact she’s the best healer I’ve ever met. So you’ll just have to deal,” Nathaniel fired back. 

She smiled a little that Nathaniel would defend her. She heard the other man sigh, “She hasn’t had any Chantry training?”

“I don’t think she needed it. Look she worked for the Inquisition and no one complained. I’m not sure that the Chantry’s way of teaching mages was ever actually useful. She knows magic I’ve never seen. But it works,” Nathaniel said, his words were cut off at the sound of the others coming in. She immediately pretended to be heavily involved in organizing healing and sleeping draughts. 

“This is the infirmary,” Barris said as he led the group in, “and your home for the next few weeks.”

“The first weeks of lyrium withdrawal are difficult and having everyone in one room makes it easier on the healers to take care of you,” Cullen explained. 

“How difficult?” the templar with red hair asked. 

“Well Davis, you’re going to have the chance to get all your questions answered after you turn over all lyrium and weapons,” Barris said kindly. 

“All weapons?” Trina looked suspicious. 

“One of the symptoms of withdrawal is hallucinations and the like. If you’re armed you could hurt someone or yourself,” Cullen said, “none of us are armed.”

“She doesn’t need to be,” Hendrick said gesturing towards Mara. 

“You’re right, she could probably take you out without magic or weapons,” Davis joked, throwing a wink at Mara. 

Mara tried to retain a professional facade, but decided right then that she liked Davis, “You can give your weapons to Barris and I’ll take the lyrium.”

“I had everyone on reduced dosages, figured it might help the process along,” Audra explained.

“Indeed,” Mara responded taking the lyrium supplies from each member of the group. 

“Uh...miss?” another of the men looked at her questioningly. 

“Yes, -?” she paused so he could give her his name. 

“Lyre,” he swallowed, “what are you doing with these?”

Mara looked at him kindly, “I can’t tell you, but I’m not destroying them, just taking them away for now. If you want it back when you leave here I’ll give it back.”

His dark eyes were nearly as dark as his hair, he was a little shorter than the other three men in the group, but he had a kindness in his face. He ran a hand through his hair, “Thank you.”

She smiled in response and moved onto the last of the group. Emmett was his name? “Yours too?”

“How do I know you’ll keep it safe?” he asked, his voice was deep and gravelly. 

She sighed, “You don’t.” Mara bit down on her temper that was building. First, Hendrick was questioning her abilities and now Emmett was implying she was untrustworthy. 

Barris stepped in taking the lyrium kit from Emmett, “We expect a certain level of respect will be given to any person who works here. But especially the person who is most responsible for your survival the next few weeks.” Emmett glanced to Cullen as if he was checking that Barris had the authority to do that. All he received in return was a cold glare. 

Audra shook her head, “Quit making trouble Emmett.”

Mara took the lyrium kits and walked out of the room, Cullen and Barris could lead the rest of the group without her for a while, it would give her a chance to regain a little more composure before the questions began in earnest. 

They’d have dinner together tonight, the last real meal any of them could expect for a while. Cullen had hired a cook from the village since there would be nine people living at the estate and they could hardly rely on Mia or their rudimentary cooking skills with that many people needing to be fed. 

Mara laid the lyrium kits gently on her bed and knelt down on the floor. She waved her hand over the floorboard and the barrier disappeared. It was old Dalish magic, ancient perhaps. Dispelling didn’t work against it, nor did any sort of magic Keeper Deshanna had tried. It was something Keeper Deshanna had taught her early on in her training. It was magic only taught to Keepers and Firsts, so that they could protect the ancient artifacts they carried with the clan. Deshanna would probably balk at how she was using it now.  She pulled up the floorboard and it revealed the small lyrium supply she had in case of emergency as well as four lyrium kits, laid side by side. The blue liquid made her sick to her stomach just looking at it. 

She placed the the other lyrium kits under the board, carefully stacking them before replacing the floorboard. She spoke the ancient elven words, a quiet whisper as the barrier slipped into place. Only perceptible if you knew it was there, it was the safest way. The only way. 

She rose and went out to meet back with the group.

***

The knock was so quiet that she wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been lying awake. She’d tried to sleep, knew she would need it to face the oncoming days, but just couldn’t. Her mind continued to flit over every detail every scenario, over and over, thoughts of Gregory never far away. She lit the candle on her bedside table with a wave of her hand and moved towards the door. She opened it slowly, aware of the creaking hinges and hoping that the noise would go unnoticed. 

He stood with his back towards her, rocking back and forth on his feet as if he might walk away. Cullen turned when the door opened and looked momentarily relieved. She could see that his eyes were dark with the weight of demons she did not know the names of. He looked haunted and the twist of the candlelight did nothing to disguise it. 

They didn’t speak. She opened the door wider and stepped to the side of it. He entered quietly, looking a little lost. She shut the door behind him, knowing he wouldn’t speak until that barrier was in place. 

She wondered how long it took him to make the decision to come here. How long he laid awake making the mental journey before finally rising. How long he had paused at her door before half-heartedly knocking. She could see the reluctance in the way he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. She knew the journey here hadn’t been an easy one. 

He stood in the middle of the room, unmoving. There wasn’t any furniture besides her bed and a dresser in the room and she knew he never wanted to impose. She took his hand and led him to her bed, sitting down on the edge of it so he could do the same. His calloused hands were always so warm, but she’d found his nightmares made him feverish and warmer. His hand seemed to be burning and she loosened her grip, allowing him to let go if he wanted to. Her hands were always cold, but within his warm ones they warmed to something that resembled a normal temperature. It was somewhat how they were with each other she supposed, both of them opposites, pushed together and they just worked. She expected him to let go of her hand, but he held fast to it. 

“Did I wake you?” he asked, voice a hoarse whisper. 

She shook her head, “No.”

“I wondered...when you opened the door so quickly...I didn’t want to wake you,” Cullen said staring at the floor. 

She reached out her free hand, ran it along his jaw. She could feel the rasp of his stubbled under her hand as she gently turned him to face her, “Don’t be afraid to look at me.”

He allowed it, leaned into her touch, eyes bearing into hers as he murmured, “I’m afraid of you looking at me.”

“What don’t you want me to see?” she asked. 

“I’m weak and broken,” he whispered, voice barely audible and his eyes fell shut, waiting for her pronouncement of judgement. It wouldn’t come. 

She rubbed her thumb along the soft skin of his cheek, “Cullen, you are not broken. You are not weak. Your strength in the face of everything we’ve faced astounds me.”

His eyes fluttered open and the demons seemed to have disappeared for the moment. His free hand enveloped hers pulling her hand down so he could press a kiss into the palm of her hand. He nuzzled against her hand before speaking, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You can stay as long as you like,” she smiled. 

“Thank you,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her lips. He began to pull away, but she chased his lips, not wanting it to end quite yet. It seemed to be all the permission he needed, a hand coming to cup the base of her skull and deepen the kiss. She dragged his bottom lip gently, slowly between her teeth and his other hand moved to clutch her thigh. 

Flames followed the trails of his touch, even though a barrier of clothing stood between his hand and her skin. He kissed her like she was all that anchored him in this world. He hadn’t kissed her like this since that morning in his room, it had been softer, sweeter since then, she’d missed the urgency. The way he kissed her hadn’t held the same edge to it. It was as if he was allowing his careful control to slip, and it ignited something within her. She felt wanted. The feeling made her brave. She gripped his shoulder and moved so she was straddling his lap. His hands moved to her waist and his head tilted back to accommodate her. He trailed open mouthed kisses down her jaw. 

“Mara,” his hot breath blew across her neck and sent her shuddering under his touch. She rolled her hips experimentally, felt his breath catch when she did. He continued down her neck and so she did it again, he recaptured her lips in a hard kiss as his hips thrust to meet hers. She felt a jolt of pleasure at the movement and tangled her hands in his hair to pull him closer.

Kissing him made her forget herself, left her head swimming. She’d never really considered what it would be to have someone want her in this way, to have another person to rely on. She smiled against his lips as their bodies moved together. 

His hands slid up her torso, stopping just shy of where she needed them to be. The coursing need for him to touch her surprised her, and she was trying to decide what to do about that as she pulled away with a gasping breath. Cullen didn’t stop, kissing across her cheek leading to her ear. He ran his hot tongue along the shell of her ear and she all but jumped out of his arms as she covered her ear with her hand. She felt Cullen freeze under her. 

“Mara?” he asked, voice shrouded in concern, “did I hurt you?”

She paused for a moment and considered his question, she wasn’t hurt so what the hell was that? “I...don’t think so…” she replied. 

Cullen’s eyes were honeyed softness, “Okay?”

“I’m sorry, that it was sort of an involuntary reaction,” she shook her head, embarrassed. 

Cullen smirked up at her, “I’ll have to file that away for future use.”

She glared down at him in jest, “That’s not fair, I haven’t found any weaknesses of yours yet.”

“Perhaps you need to look harder,” he smiled mischievously and she laughed out loud before Cullen’s hand covered it to quiet her. 

She was shaking from the silent laughter when Cullen kissed her again, lips insistent as he pulled her back into his lap. His hands were splayed across her back, moving up and down pulling her closer. She didn’t want to stop, but she moved away reluctantly. Cullen followed, sneaking in two more kisses before she pulled away again. 

“We should…”she was distracted by attention he was paying to her neck, “probably stop here tonight.”

He pulled away without question, “Of course.”

“It was….I’m just not….there yet,” she said, words coming in spurts as she caught her breath. She wasn’t sure it was possible, but her heart was somehow beating harder as she spoke. 

Cullen’s eyes softened and he smiled, “There’s no reason to rush.”

She nodded and brushed her lips over the scar that bisected his lip, “We should get some rest, tomorrow the real work begins.”

His hands came to rest on either side of her face and he pulled her down to place a kiss on her forehead, “Agreed, not that I wasn’t enjoying the earlier  _ activities _ , but you’re right.” 

“Usually am,” she smiled as she crawled into bed. When Cullen didn’t move to follow her under the covers she stopped. “Not joining?” 

He rubbed the back of his neck and a small blush crept over his cheeks, “I didn’t want to assume.”

“I did say you could stay,” Mara moved the blankets back. 

He slid in beside her, his warm body heating up the cold bed. She didn’t move any closer towards him. This was hardly the first time they’d slept together, but this was the first time it was being done deliberately and she wasn’t sure what to do. The momentary bravery she’d felt kissing him having abandoned her. 

She rolled on her side away from him, willing herself to fall asleep. She felt him shift behind her and his arm draped over her waist. 

“Is this okay?” he asked. 

She moved back towards him until she could feel his body behind her, “It’s perfect.”

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered and she felt him kiss her hair. She drifted to sleep in his warmth and the rhythm of his breathing. 

***

She saw Gregory in each of the new Templars. Knew that Cullen and Barris did too, but they didn’t speak of it. She saw him in the way they talked, their eyes, the uncertainty when they arrived and she was terrified. She’d made plans to make sure nothing like that happened at the estate ever again, but she knew so much of it was out of her control and that was terrifying too. 

Cullen bore it much better, settled into his role of leading the group much easier this time around. All of the fears he expressed in the darkness of her room disappeared in the daylight. He rallied well, always the Commander. It was progress, small but there. She’d take it, only hoped that she was doing better too. 

Once the withdrawal symptoms began, it was all haze of too little sleep. They kept to a strict schedule. The two healers always arrived at ten p.m. and stayed until seven. Cullen, Barris and Mara took sleep in three and a half hour shifts while the other two healers were there. They rotated who took the night off, and it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been. 

Having Barris and the two healers made all the difference. She no longer felt the weight of always needing to be in the infirmary. He followed her and Cullen’s lead, tending to whomever needed it. He was good at it too. She’d watched him closely, hoping that being this close to withdrawal wouldn’t have a negative effect on him. He seemed more resolved and stronger than ever, kind and compassionate. Rosie helped in her spare time too, but Mara suspected it had a lot more to do with spending time with Barris than actually helping. 

Those seemingly unending early days when it was just her and Cullen against four templars still haunted her, in both her waking and sleeping hours. Three days into this round and she was still functioning, so she counted that as a victory. No one had attacked her, but Barris and Cullen had to hold Davis down a few times as he’d thrashed awake from dreams.

It was mid-morning by her best guess glancing out the window. Trina, Audra and Lyre were asleep, thankfully. They’d not slept for most of the night, and this time around Mara was working very hard not to use sleeping draughts unless she had to. Hendrick was awake and seemed to be lucid, though his dark skin had a deathly pallor about it. 

“Hendrick?” she said softly, moving towards his bedside. He looked up at her as if just noticing her presence. “Can I get you anything?”

“I….no….” he shook his head. 

She sank into the chair that rested between his and Audra’s beds, “What’s up?”

He realized she wasn’t simply walking away and any reluctance to talk to her disappeared, “I’m seeing things. Memories perhaps? I see faces, people I thought I’d forgotten. I don’t know what’s real.”

Mara threw a glance to Cullen, he was much better this sort of thing than she was, but both he and Barris were helping as Emmett’s body violently rejected the small bit of food they’d tried to give him about an hour before. Hendrick looked at her with worried eyes. 

“You can tell me about them and we can try to decide together what is and what isn’t,” she suggested. 

Hendrick nodded, “Okay. Um... the Western Approach, there was a keep there. I was stationed for a while. Demons attacked?”

She shook her head, “No demons.”

“Someplace green, but red is everywhere. Blood...lyrium...we’re fighting towards a temple,” he said, words unsure. 

She remembered the red against the green, so much green. It should have been a pleasant place, but the sweltering heat and the green reminded her of a cage she couldn’t escape. More ominous than even Adamant. “Real. The Arbor Wilds.”

“You were there,” he whispered.

She nodded, “I was.” In the healing tents and the never ending parade of the wounded, dead, and nearly dead that were brought there she remembered praying. She wasn’t much one for prayer, never really believed any deity was listening. But somewhere in the lack of sleep and the death around her, she’d prayed. Prayed and prayed not to see another dead body, that she could save at least one of the soldiers that was brought to her. Blood caked under fingernails, she scrubbed and scrubbed until her hands were raw, the blood never seemed to wash away. 

“My head hurts,” Hendrick murmured, bending over and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

She held out her hand and he extended his slowly. She closed her eyes and felt her magic scrambling to help. She massaged his hand, working slowly up his wrist and pressing her magic into pressure points slow and steady. She could feel him responding beneath her touch, the tension slipping away. He sunk back into the pillows, looking much calmer. She let go of his hand and went to check on Barris and Cullen. 

Emmett was lying back down, face a little green and Cullen stood over him looking concerned. 

“He’d kept broth down yesterday, I thought we were getting out of the woods,” Cullen said to her. 

Cullen looked as tired as she felt, clothes a little askew and deep bags under his eyes. Not as bad as before, she reminded herself. 

“Start over with the broth tomorrow if he’s feeling well,” she suggested. 

Cullen turned to look at her, “Alright.”

She walked away then, feeling the need to sit down. Cullen had followed, his hand grabbing hers, “Hey, you okay?”

She nodded, “Of course.” It was the first bit of contact she’d had with him in days. They’d been so busy there hadn’t been time for even a moment, but the infirmary was quiet right now and his touch was so welcome. 

“Mara,” he scolded just quiet enough for her to hear. He didn’t let go of her hand. 

“Just tired,” she shrugged, “Truly.”

He nodded and released her. There would be time for them to be together later, for now they had a job to do. Lyre awoke with a scream and Mara rushed to his bedside, getting to work immediately when she felt his feverish head. 

There would be time. But first they had to weather this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We were supposed to get to Cassandra in this chapter, but then we got like at 1600 word scene of making out that I was so not planning on. So there you go. Cassandra is coming...next chapter. I've already started that scene. It's going to be good. Anyways, thank you so much for reading and being wonderful. <3


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The templars begin improving and Cassandra arrives. Cassandra brings with her some information that Mara had been hiding.

Cullen was exhausted, the kind of tired that was bone deep and made his limbs feel heavy. He was accustomed to working without sleep, but this was and perhaps would always be different. There was a small change this time around though, the near crippling amount of guilt that had kept him in the infirmary last time had lifted. Now he stayed because he wanted to and because he knew he could help. This time when he urged Barris and Mara to take breaks it wasn’t out of guilt. It made a difference. 

The two new healers and Barris made a difference too. The task was still difficult because of what they were doing more so than the sheer exhaustion of it all. And Cullen found himself surprised at just how much of a difference a warm bath and an hour away from the infirmary was able to make. 

It had been a week and Cullen felt he could see the light at the end of the tunnel approaching and he was ready for it. For there to be less of a need for the constant care and supervision, to actually be with Mara. Maker he missed her and she was in the same room with him most of the time, but it didn’t matter. They conversed a little, but were mostly busy and it was not enough. 

He quietly hoped she felt the same and that this ridiculous notion of missing someone who was in the same room was not only limited to him. 

Audra was the furthest along in the withdrawal process, was making the biggest strides each day. It was surprising given she had been on lyrium the longest of them all, but she kept spirits up as the leader of this little band of templars. Most of them were eating, Lyre being the only exclusion to that. He still hadn’t been able to move beyond broth. Trina taken longer than the others as well, only started on bits of toast the day before. 

Mara moved over to Trina’s bedside, “Some more of this for the nausea.”

Trina laughed, “I don’t know, perhaps after a few more bouts of that nausea I might be able to fit in all those ballgowns my mother always tried to force me into.”

Cullen chuckled as he went to check on Davis, Trina had retained her humor all the way through the process and it seemed her and Mara got along well. 

He was most worried about Davis. He’d had the worst cases of the shaking among the whole group, it made it difficult to care for him and he was almost always feverish. Mara had been working hard to keep the fever down, using cold presses and trying to force feed him herbal concoctions he wasn’t able to keep down long enough to do much good. 

Davis was still for now, but Cullen could see the signs that preceded the bouts of shaking. Davis clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles were white and his face was steeled in endurance. The shaking was painful for him, taking an already brittle body and creating more pain. Davis’s red hair stuck out wiry from his head in every direction, giving the impression as he shook that lightning magic was involved. 

Cullen rest his hand on Davis’s arm, “How are you doing?”

Davis opened his eyes. “Mmm fine,” he said through clenched teeth. 

There was  little to be done except wait it out, so Cullen nodded and walked away. Mara was near her desk and he watched as she sunk heavily into her chair. 

“You should go get some sleep,” he suggested. The infirmary was quiet, more quiet than it had been in a week. 

Mara shook her head, “And leave you here alone? I’ll go when Barris wakes.”

“Or when the other healers arrive?” Cullen suggested. They’d kept the curtains on the  window closest to Mara’s desk slightly open to keep track of time, and he could see that the sun was falling low in the sky and they would arrive within an hour or two. 

“You’re just as dead on your feet as me,” Mara said, glancing up at him with tired eyes. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, but he knew she was right. 

“Maybe when Barris wakes he can stay all night, and we can both sleep,” Mara said hopefully. As things had gotten better over the last day or so he and Mara had agreed that Barris should take the first full day off. Barris hadn’t argued with them, a testament to how exhausted he was.   

Sleep, just a few hours off, the thought was a nice one. “That would be ideal, it’s been mostly quiet today.”

“Yes, it was. When is Cassandra due to arrive?” Mara asked. 

“First day or two of Firstfall. What day is it now?” Cullen had hardly kept track of the days, it was too difficult and they all blurred together. His life had been measured more by shifts than anything else. 

Mara looked at the small planner she kept on her desk opening it up, “It’s the 25th of Harvestmere today.” 

So they still had nearly a week before her arrival. That would be good, the clinic would be running well once the templars were out of initial withdrawal. Once Cassandra arrived Sera and Dagna wouldn’t be far behind, and then it would be on to Denerim. He and Mara hadn’t discussed Denerim further. They’d both been trying to survive one thing at a time, but it was still in the back of Cullen’s mind. The threat of red lyrium was so much bigger than what they were doing at the clinic. 

“Food’s ready,” Sal said, appearing in the doorway. Sal was the cook he’d hired, she had ten children and on any given day a few of them were there to help. Her dark hair was always pulled back into an extreme knot, and Sal seemed downright grouchy most of the time. She seemed to have formed some sort of soft spot for him though, she mothered him about his eating worse than Mia. 

One of her children, William appeared with her carrying a tray full of broth and bread for the templars. Once the others were fed he and Mara would be able to break for their own meal. 

Mara stood up casting Cullen an apologetic glance, they had to get back to work. He followed her, a few more hours. And then sleep. They could make it. 

***

The next few days slipped past quickly. Firstfall arrived and brought with it colder days and a few stray snowflakes. The days were still too warm for a full snowstorm, but in the mornings there would be a light dusting of snow along the grass outside. The snow stuck to the pine tree needles in crystalline shapes and they sparkled in the sunlight. Satinalia was still a few days away, but Mia had decorated the estate with Clara, Liam and Henry. Pine boughs hung along the railing, strands of colorful tassel and beads hung over every entryway, and paper snowflakes hung in the foyer. They’d even set up a small Santinalia tree, wooden ornaments hung from its branches and spirits were higher than they had been for a long time. Cullen was glad to see more hope and happiness in the house. 

Mara had told him she’d never celebrated Satinalia quite like this. There had been some celebration among the Inquisition camps, he’d made sure of that. A larger than usual meal and some drinks were the most he could do for most of his men. But this was different. Mia had plans for a great feast with everyone at the estate and they’d be exchanging gifts. Cullen already had something for Mara prepared, Rosie had wrapped it up in red paper tied it with string and set it under the tree for him. Cassandra would be arriving just in time for the festivities and Cullen was looking forward to her arrival. 

Cullen was walking into his office when he thought he heard the noise of someone coming through the gate. He moved quickly into the foyer and opened the heavy front door, he’d just gotten onto the porch when he saw her. 

“Cullen!” Cassandra smiled dismounting her horse. She was even smiling, and he took that as a good sign. Cassandra was a serious sort, but she’d been a good friend as long as he’d known her. 

“Cassandra, welcome!” he held out a hand for a handshake and was a little surprised when she pulled him in for a hug instead. 

“I’ve missed you,” she said as she stepped back. 

He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, he and Cassandra had never been terribly vocal about their feelings. The simply understood one another, and he knew she wouldn’t be offended as he changed the subject. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

“This place ...it’s lovely,” Cassandra looked around as he led her inside. 

Mara met him in the foyer, having heard Cassandra’s arrival, “This is Mara Lavellan.”

Cassandra nodded in acknowledgement, “It is very nice to finally meet you. Cullen has told me much about you, and of course it’s an honor to meet the Hero of South Reach.”

“What?” the words tumbled out of Cullen’s mouth. 

Mara winced, “It’s very nice to meet you to Seeker Pentaghast.”

Cassandra looked between the two of them, “Cassandra will do. Something tells me that I’ve said the wrong thing.”

He rounded on Mara, “You’re the Hero of South Reach?”

Mara looked a little tired, but not afraid of him in the least, “Yes.”

“You didn’t know?” Cassandra asked. 

“How would I have known that?” Cullen asked, anger rising within his chest. The sting of betrayal building as well. 

“The missive came across your desk! Why else did you think Leliana told you to find her?” 

“A lot of missives came across my desk! You thought I would remember one name in all of that?” Cullen said, voice much louder than it should have been.

“Good to know I’m memorable…” Mara said under her breath, and that just made him even more angry.

“Someone saving the entire town that your siblings lived in should be something worth remembering!” Cassandra rolled her eyes. He remembered the missive itself vaguely, but the name hadn’t stuck. 

He sighed and Mara refused to meet his gaze, she was suddenly incredibly interested in the floor. Cassandra looked slightly amused and thankfully Barris walked into the foyer, he’d obviously heard the exchange and looked a little exasperatedly between him and Mara.  

“Cassandra! I trust you had safe travels?” Barris asked with a smile. 

At least Barris was there to make a good impression, he thought glumly. 

“I did. You are looking well,” Cassandra replied. 

“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll give you the grand tour?” Barris gestured out of the foyer and gave Cullen a pointed look that very clearly said to deal with the situation. 

“A tour would be wonderful,” Cassandra said, following Barris further into the house leaving Cullen alone with Mara. 

“My office, now,” he tried not to make it sound like an order, but it did. 

Mara followed without question, she closed the door softly behind her and the silence between them grew heavier with each passing moment. 

He swallowed his anger, hurt was slowly replacing it and his mind was racing, “So you’re the hero?”

“Yes.” Her voice was more sure than his, but it was tinged with sadness. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” the words twisted into an accusation more than a question. 

Mara shook her head, “Because there was nothing heroic about what happened, the stories got it wrong.” He could see her hands were clenched tightly at her sides. 

Realization dawned on him and he felt stupid for not seeing it before, “Riordan knew.”

Mara nodded, “He was the one who wrote the missive as I understand it. I argued with him, told him to just leave it alone, let the Guard take the credit.”

“All this time, the Festival...you said nothing,” Cullen ran a hand through his hair. 

“Correct,” Mara replied, she didn’t look away from him, seemed ready to face his anger head on. 

“Why?” his voice shook. Why keep this from him? What did she want to hide? What about him did she not trust? 

Her gaze was steady as she asked, “What do you know of that night?”

“Just the stories,” he admitted, “Demons invading the town, the guard was overwhelmed then someone arrived, no one knew who or what they were, turned the tide. Some believed it was the Inquisitor, but it wasn’t. The rift wasn’t closed until she arrived nearly a week later.”

Mara glanced away as he spoke, but her eyes flicked back up to his as she spoke, “The stories get bigger and bigger each time they’re told. Until no truth remains.”

He gripped the desk in front of him, her responses not calming his nerves, “So what is the truth?”

“A group of people in the tavern had a bit too much to drink. A rift had opened a few weeks before in the hills, it was causing problems with livestock and predators. The Guard had a watch placed nearby to take on any demons that managed to get through, but they weren’t near enough to activate it. The group decided they could take on the rift with the Inquisition’s help. I only knew what was happening because the healing tent in the Inquisition camp suddenly became very busy. I was frustrated and angry and everything I heard made it sound like a losing battle. I was sick of sitting in the healing tent tending to wounds, so I went out to help,” Mara explained. 

“And you couldn’t have told me that before…?”

Mara’s brow furrowed, “Don’t you see? I abandoned my post in my anger and stupidity. Two men were brought in after I left. They died of their wounds because the other healer was too spent, and I wasn’t there. They died because I was off playing hero.” The last word came out in a twist of bitterness.

“I deserve no recognition, there was nothing heroic that happened. The Guard would have defeated the demons without my help,” she looked back at the floor. 

He could see the way the guilt of that night rode along her shoulders, how she carried it, had always carried it. Now he knew what it was, his anger had evaporated. 

“You don’t know that your help didn’t turn the tide, saved more lives than were lost,” Cullen said quietly. 

“Don’t!” Mara held up a hand, “Don’t try to justify it or make it better with what ifs. Riordan said the same thing after.” Tears glistened in her eyes. 

He understood, probably better than most, but she still hadn’t told him. “You should have said something.”

“You’re the only person in the whole world who knows all my secrets. You know how terrifying that is?” she asked, wiping tears from her cheeks. He wanted to move closer to her, wipe them away himself. Instead he kept himself rooted in the spot, heart hammering in his chest because he did know how terrifying that was. How it felt to hold yourself out to someone, bare and vulnerable and have them reject you. That fear he held, it was mirrored in her eyes. He vowed that he would never push her away, that she would never know how that felt, at least from him. Because he would stay with her as long as she would have him. He was in love with her. 

He was in love with Mara. There was a certainty about it, and he didn’t question it one bit. Realized he had probably loved her for a while now. He wouldn’t tell her just yet, it was too soon. Far too soon. Instead he’d hold it tight in his chest, tell her when he was sure she wouldn’t be scared off by it. For now that would be enough. 

When he didn’t speak she continued, “This was it….the last one I had. I wanted to tell you, I just I wasn’t sure how…”

“But there was a safety in keeping it to yourself,” he whispered. He wanted her to know he understood. 

She nodded, “I’m sorry.” Mara turned to go, a resignation in her eyes. He moved then, crossed the space between them that was much shorter than it had been. He grasped her hand. 

“Where are you going?” he asked gently. 

It took her a moment to meet his eyes, “I just thought...you’d want me to go.”   
He placed a hand on her cheek, “No, I don’t want you to go.”

“No more secrets,” she promised. 

He repeated the words, “No more secrets.” He pulled her closer to his chest, her arms wound around him and he rested his cheek against her hair. He’d need to give her more of his secrets than he had already, but there wasn’t time for that now. Just time for one. 

He pulled away and moved to his desk drawer and drew out the heavy cream envelope and handed it to her. She looked at him confused as she opened it. 

He watched her as she read the looping script, the slipped in note. She looked up at him when she was finished, “Do you want to go?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. 

“If you did, Barris and I could hold down the fort here,” she said handing the envelope back to him. 

He took it and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “We’ll see. We should meet up with Cassandra and Barris.”

Mara winced, “She probably hates me after that really lovely first impression.”

Cullen laughed, “I think that was the best entertainment she’d had in awhile.” He took her hand and together they left, the envelope forgotten on the desk. 

***

Cullen’s breath rose in a languid puff and the cold bit at his exposed skin, but Cassandra had wanted to talk and so he followed her outside. 

“It’s a little cold,” she apologized as she glanced around the darkened garden. The plants still grew green and bright as if it was midsummer and not nearly winter, and the whole place sung of magic. He’d never seen anything quite like it, wondered if he touched the soil if it might feel as warm as it looked. 

“It’s fine,” he said, he’d once been used to the cold temperatures. He remembered spending most of his days outside in Haven as the snow quietly fell, surely it had been colder then. 

“You’ve built something incredible here, Cullen,” Cassandra said, giving him a rare smile, “it’s like a sanctuary.” It was a little corner of quiet in Ferelden that he’d found and created with a lot of help. 

“Thank you,” he said taking a deep breath, the cold air stung his lungs as he did. 

“I know Leliana helped in the beginning, but you’ve got money coming in?” Cassandra asked. 

He shuffled his feet, “Yes, we’ve actually been rather fortunate. More of Leliana’s doing I think.”

“Once word spreads of the work you’re doing here you won’t need the help,” Cassandra replied. 

“I hope you’re right. It hasn’t been easy, but it feels right,” Cullen admitted. It felt more right to be doing this work than anything ever had, besides joining the Inquisition.

She crossed her arms, “It is. And Mara, you didn’t mention you were  _ involved.” _

He rubbed his neck absently, “We….um….well. We are.” He didn’t know why he felt as almost as much apprehension telling her as he did Mia.

“I sounded rather like I was accusing you didn’t I? I am sorry, that is not what I meant by it,” she said, her face shifting to kindness. 

“She’s the most incredible woman I’ve ever met,” Cullen said smiling despite himself. 

Cassandra grinned, “You love her.”

Cullen paused at the comment, there was no hiding things from Cassandra, “I do.”

“You know, I only ever wanted to see you happy. You always deserved that. I see you now and the way you look at her, the way you carry yourself, you’re happy,” she said. 

Cullen shook his head, “I wasn’t unhappy before, Cassandra.”

“Yes, you were,” she said shortly, “especially after….” Her words trailed off, but he could guess where they were going. 

He sighed, “This is different this time.”

“I know, I can tell. It looks like it’s out of a storybook,” she glanced up at the stars, looked a little longingly out at the sky. 

“Hopefully just not one of Varric’s,” he chuckled. 

Cassandra shoved him, “You mock me.”

He gave her the most innocent look he could muster, “Again with the accusing!”

She shook her head and looked away. 

_ Whoosh.  _ Something whizzed past his head. It sent him grasping for a sword that no longer hung on his hip. Cassandra had a dagger out in a blink of an eye, she was in battle position. He was as well, but he had nothing to defend himself with. 

Then he heard the laughter out in the darkness and relaxed. Cassandra made a noise of disgust. 

The blonde elf emerged from the shadows, still clutching her side as she laughed, “You warrior types, so jumpy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra! Finally. And Sera! I'm so very very excited for what's coming. Thank you all for reading along, things are going to be picking up here soon plot wise, and hopefully for Cullen and Mara too!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made for Denerim, Satinalia occurs, and the Rutherford siblings react to Cullen's imminent departure.

Mara was working in the infirmary when she heard rapping that seemed like it was coming from the front door. Who would be knocking on the door at this time of night? Cullen and Cassandra were out back discussing something. Mara found herself a little skittish around the Seeker. She was nice enough, but Mara kept thinking about her first impression and couldn’t quite get past how terrible it was. 

The rapping happened again as she was hurrying to the door, and when she pulled it open she was a little shocked to find a dwarf on the front porch. 

“Um...hello,” she said. As far as she knew there weren’t many, if any dwarves in South Reach, so she wondered what this small dwarven woman was doing at the door. 

“I’m Dagna! I know Cullen,” the dwarf smiled, “Wow, he’s really upgraded since that tower without a roof hasn’t he?”

Mara moved aside to let Dagna into the house, “I wouldn’t know. I’m Mara.”

Dagna wondered in, eyes wide and surveying every inch of the house, “It’s dark out, but this place is huge! Not quite like Skyhold, but that was a fortress not really a house. Cullen did tell you we were coming right? You just seemed a little surprised to see me.”

Mara nodded, “Of course, you and Sera were coming together?”

“Yes! Sera thought she could hear Cullen talking around back, decided to go surprise him. I thought I’d use the front door,” Dagna explained walking further into the house. 

Mara followed her, “Well let’s go find them.”

She heard the laughter first and when her and Dagna rounded the corner leading to the infirmary they ran right into the group in question. Cassandra was scowling and Cullen didn’t seem thrilled either. An elf with bow in hand was following them and still guffawing over something. 

“Dagna, it’s good to see you!” Cullen said when he saw them. 

“Hey Cullen! Nice digs! You actually have a roof on this place!” Dagna exclaimed. 

Cassandra chuckled, “Yes Cullen, you do have a roof this time. I hadn’t thought to mention it.”

Mara was confused, “Did you not have a roof at Skyhold?”

Cullen sighed, but Sera spoke before he could, “Cully-Wully had a huge hole in his roof that he never bothered to fix. Maybe he wanted everyone to hear…” She made kissing and raspberry noises with her mouth. 

“Sera!” Cassandra looked at her a little scandalized. 

Mara laughed, “Cully-Wully?”

Cullen glowered at her, “Don’t even start on that.”

Sera jerked her chin at her, “Who’re you?”

“Mara, I’m a healer here,” she replied. 

“From your letters it sounds like there’s more than healing here though, yeah?” Sera nudged Cullen in the arm and giggled. 

Dagna clapped her hands, “You’re together! How wonderful! Are you going to come to Denerim with us too?”

“Someone has to run the clinic, we haven’t discussed it in depth,” Cullen said. They hadn’t, in fact they’d been avoiding the subject entirely. Not that they’d had a lot of opportunities to talk about it. Things had been almost non-stop up until Cassandra arrived, and now they had two more house guests. 

Sera glanced around the infirmary at the Satinalia decorations, “We’re going to celebrate though first, right?”

Cullen laughed, “Well Satinalia is the day after tomorrow, I think we ought to.”

“Which means there’s plenty of time for serious discussion tomorrow, why don’t we get the two of you some food and we can visit,” Mara said walking into the kitchen. 

She thought she heard Sera murmur quietly, “Oh food, I like her.”

***

Most of the next morning was devoted to planning the trip to Denerim. The plan was a simple one, Sera had already reached out to her ‘friends’ within the city and they should have some more news once they arrived. Cullen was going to go to the tavern and stay under the name the merchant had given them and then they’d wait. The hope was that Sera’s friends would have better information than that. Cassandra seemed to be opposed to using Cullen as bait, but she never offered up an alternative to the plan. The one thing everyone agreed on was that this was some sort of trap set up just for him, the pieces were too personal. 

No one had any theories as to who might be behind it that they were sharing, but Mara noticed that Sera was uncharacteristically grim about the whole situation. She kept throwing significant glances at Cassandra who seemed to be on the same wavelength, but no one seemed to want to talk about it in front of Cullen. 

Mara disliked everything about the plan, but didn’t say a word. She was feeling pretty safe assuming she wouldn’t be going. She and Cullen still hadn’t discussed it, but the plan hinged on Cullen being recognized when he gave the name at the tavern and then whomever behind this showing themselves. They were clearly trying to get Cullen’s attention and as uneasy as the walking into the whole thing blind made her, she hoped that Sera would be able to get more information. Cassandra and Cullen both had a great deal of faith in her ‘friends’. So she decided to have a little faith too. 

The meeting ended and after checking on each of the templars she was heading to her room when Rosalie met her at the bottom of the steps. They’d been seeing a lot more of Rosalie lately and Mara couldn’t help but smile at the way she and Barris looked at each other. They were both completely lovestruck, it was sweet. 

“Mara!” Rosalie called to her as she descended the stairs. 

“Hey Rosie,” she said, “Barris is upstairs if you need him.”

“Oh, I’ll see him in a minute, I wanted to talk to you,” Rosie smiled. 

“What’s up?” Mara asked.

Rosie glanced around the foyer to Cullen’s open office door where Cassandra, Sera, Danga and Cullen were still talking, “In private.”

“Of course,” Mara threw her a quizzical look and led her back to her room. Once the door was shut behind them Rosalie sighed and wrung her hands. 

“Rosie?” Mara asked moving to sit on the bed. 

“This is a little awkward, so please don’t be offended,” Rosie said. 

“Um...okay,” Mara replied, completely at a loss for what Rosie needed to talk to her about. 

“Have you gotten Cullen a Satinalia gift?” Rosie blurted out and watched her carefully. 

Mara was instantly relieved, “No. Was I supposed to?” Of all the things to be concerned about, this was what Rosalie was here to talk about?

Rosalie bit her lip, “I thought you might not have.”

Mara knew gift giving was much more common among humans. She’d celebrated Satinalia before, but it was always as part of the Inquisition and out in the field. As a member of the Inquisition she’d been taken in by families and included in their Satinalia celebrations. There was usually a grand feast and sometimes there were gifts, but nothing large. She was wondering if she should be rethinking what she thought she knew about Satinalia. 

“This is some human custom that I’ve got completely wrong huh?” 

“It’s just that he got you a gift, and I didn’t want you to be in an awkward position,” Rosie sighed. 

Mara smiled, “He did?”

Rosie laughed, “You’re going to love it.”

In clans gifts were only given as a sign you intended to court another. When she was young her parents had always given her something for her name day, but they were small things and she’d outgrown the need for gifts. Nathaniel’s gift to her had been a first, and an unexpected one at that. And now Cullen as well?

Then it hit her. What in the void was she going to get Cullen?

“Shit,” she swore. 

Rosie frowned, “What?”

She sighed and dragged a hand down her face, “What am I going to get Cullen? Satinalia is tomorrow.”

Rosie giggled, “Well you could give him…”

“If you finish that sentence so help me,” Mara interrupted her and was met with an eyebrow waggle. 

Rosie looked as innocent as possible as she joined Mara on the bed, “I have no idea what you were thinking.”

“He’s your brother, I’d really rather we not have  _ that  _ conversation, and for the record I don’t want to have it about Barris either because then when your brother asks me things I’d have to tell him,” Mara shook her head. 

Rosalie laughed, “You’re a bit of a prude you know that?”

Mara joined her, “Apparently. I am happy for you though, both of you.”

“I know. I’m happy for you too, you know. Cullen is happy, and that’s important,” Rosalie smiled reaching over the faded quilt to take her hand. 

“Speaking of...what should I get him?” Mara hadn’t been stressed in the least about celebrating the holiday and now she was. 

“Something meaningful. My brother is not one to hold on to a lot of things, but what he does has sentimental value. Give him something like that,” Rosie suggested. 

Mara gestured around the still mostly empty room, “And I have so many meaningful things lying around.”

“You’ve got something, it will come to you,” Rosie said reassuringly. 

She left and Mara looked around her room wondering what on earth to give him. She toyed with the idea of going into town, but she wasn’t even sure where to start there. Her eyes fell upon her dresser, and she had an idea. She just hoped it wasn’t a terrible one. She found some paper and wrapped it up and carefully placed it under the Satinalia tree before she could second guess herself. 

Mia and Sal coordinated on the feast and it was definitely the most grand she had ever seen. Mia had finished things up so Sal could be with her family. With all of the Rutherfords, the templars, and their guests the dining room was positively packed and it felt as right and as natural as anything ever had. The food and drink flowed freely all evening, they told stories and sang carols and Mara couldn’t remember a time when she had laughed or smiled as much as she did that evening. 

The festivities were drawing to a close and there was the slow filter of everyone retiring to bed. Mia, Matthew and Branson had left with the kids a few hours before, Liam and Henry had fallen asleep playing with their Satinalia gifts and Clara’s eyes drooped. Even Branson had looked tired, explaining that the kids had them up far earlier than they’d wanted to be. Once the kids had left the carols, especially those sung by Sera and Dagna, had taken an extremely dirty turn earning several sounds of disgust from Cassandra, but she noted that Cassandra seemed to know all of the words to the songs anyways. 

Davis and Emmett stood up to head for bed, and Barris was gently waking Rosie who had fallen asleep slumped against his shoulder. 

Cullen had leaned close to Mara, arm snaking around her waist and whispered, “Come with me.”

She’d followed with a smile, lacing their fingers together as they quietly left the room. He led her to the darkened infirmary to the Satinalia tree that still had two small packages underneath its boughs. 

“Light,” she warned and lit a few candles with the wave of her hand. 

Cullen sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of the tree, “When we were children we always opened presents in the morning. But Mum and Dad said we couldn’t be up before the sun, so when we woke long before sunrise all four of us would lay in Mia’s bed and whisper about what we hoped our presents would be.”

She smiled as she joined them on the floor, “Were you ever disappointed?”

He laughed, “Sometimes. We never wanted for anything, but we were not wealthy. The older I got the more I appreciated all of the work my parents put in. Even when I was off at training I got a special package from them every Satinalia.”

“You didn’t get to see them?” she asked.

Cullen shook his head, silence fell as he drifted back to memories only he could see. She didn’t interrupt him. But he noticed after a moment, “I’m sorry, just being back with them and this time of year...I keep remembering things.”

She took his hand in hers, “Don’t apologize.”

“I got you a present,” Cullen smiled, his golden eyes reflecting the candlelight as he looked at her in anticipation. 

“There might be something for you under there too,” she smirked. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Is there now?” He reached for a small package, wrapped in simple red paper and tied with twine. He held it out to her, she could see a glimmer of nervousness move across his face. 

She took it with a reassuring smile, and tugged at their intertwined hands, “I’m going to need my other hand to open it.” 

He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a feather light kiss on her knuckles, “Only if I get it back after.”

“Deal,” she said and he released her hand with a smile. 

She untied the twine and pulled away the red paper, revealing a simple brown box. She lifted the lid, inside the box was a necklace with flowers looking like they were encased in glass. They were tiny, but she recognized the distinct black center circled by pinkish-red petals. Anenomes. 

“These don’t grow here,” she said aloud trailing a finger along the pendant. 

“Just in the Free Marches. They’re particularly common near Wycome,” Cullen smiled. 

She looked at him, “How did you know that?”

“The merchant I bought it from told me. Apparently there is some enchantment on them to make them that small, then they’re preserved in resin,” Cullen explained, “but it’s a bit of home you can carry wherever you go.”

Mara nearly corrected him then, Wycome wasn’t home. She was slowly coming to the realization that home might not be a place at all, the more time she spent with him. 

Her throat was thick with emotion, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Cullen looked at her earnestly, “So you do like it?”

She nodded, “I do.”

“I’d just never seen you wearing any jewelry so I wasn’t completely sure. Rosalie convinced me it would be perfect, but-”

She silenced him with a kiss, “You don’t have to explain it. It’s perfect.”

He placed a hand on her cheek and pulled her back in, “I’m glad you like it.” He kissed her until they were both breathless, and they both had to pull away to catch their breath.

Mara moved away with a smile, could see that he wanted to follow her but stayed put. She pulled out her small gift from under the tree and placed it in his hands. 

She moved away, heart fluttering. She understood Cullen’s nervousness when he’d given her his gift, and she hoped that he didn’t dislike what she’d decided to give him. 

She didn’t take her eyes from his face as he pulled the paper away revealing the small box. Recognition traveled across his features, “This is from your dresser.”

He ran his hand over the lid reverently, “This is ironbark.”

She nodded, “Yes. I carved it myself. You can open it.”

He smiled slightly as he lifted the lid pulling out the dried wildflower first, “It matches your necklace.”

She smiled, “I picked it the day I left. I knew I wasn’t going back, and they were always my favorite.”

“So the necklace…” he trailed off as he understood. 

“More fitting than you could have ever known,” she finished. 

He reached in and pulled out the small wooden halla, “This?”

“My father was a skilled carver. He made lots of small carvings for me to play with when I was little. Most of them I gave to the younger children as I got older, but that one I kept.”

He nodded and pulled out the oak shards, holding them out to her with a silent question.

“A few pieces from the staffs I carved to bury my parents with,” she said, gaze dropping to the ground. 

He gently placed the pieces back into the box, “Mara, I can’t take this, these are yours.”

She swallowed hard before meeting his gaze, the affection in his eyes making it even harder to speak, “These are the things that mean the most to me, I think it makes sense that the person who means the most to me have them.”

Cullen looked a little taken aback at the declaration looking away as he closed the lid to the box, her treasures safely back inside, “Then I will keep them safe.”

It felt almost as if a weight lifted off of her, and she felt a relief she had never expected to come from giving him the small box. She didn’t hang on tightly to physical objects because she carried to much with her already that wasn’t physical. They weighed her down no matter where she went, but it felt as if a little bit of that burden had disappeared. She didn’t have to carry these alone anymore, and so she wouldn’t.  

She leaned forward, embracing him and resting her head against his chest. His arms wound around her, cheek resting on her hair. She whispered, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you for trusting me enough to give them to me,” he said, words falling quietly in the scant space between them. 

“Happy Satinalia,” she fought the tears rising in her eyes. 

He tipped her chin up so she was facing them, “The happiest of Satinalia’s.” He smiled against her lips as he kissed her, and she felt like she was home. She tried not to think about the impending trip to Denerim and how that meant they’d be separated, tried not to consider what could go wrong, because that night things were perfect. 

***

Mara placed her hand gently against the soil, still warm from her attentions the day before. Her herbs still grew, green and bright despite the cold. The enchantment would most likely not stand up to any amount of snow, but she had never tried it against a Ferelden winter. The herbs showed no sign that each day frost covered the ground. Rosie had complained there wasn’t snow for Satinalia, but there was the promise of snow in the cold bite of the air. 

Mia found her in the garden, her hair was pulled up in its usual style, soft with the curls but her face was taut and serious. She wondered what on earth was wrong. 

“Mia,” she smiled. 

“I should have you do this with my herbs,” Mia said, with a strained smile. 

Mara stood up, brushing her hands off, “I’d be happy to, it’s nice to not rely on stores for as much of the year.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” Mia said tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and looking off past Mara to the countryside.

“Don’t be,” Mara said and noticed Mia shiver, “Would you like to go inside?”

Mia glanced back to the house and shook her head, her breath visible in the cold air. Mara pulled her jacket tighter against the cool breeze, it was colder the further away she was from the plant beds. 

Mia was obviously upset about something, but Mara couldn’t place what it might be. Things between Mia and Cullen had seemed to improved as of late and Satinalia had been lovely. She waited quietly, letting the silence drag on as long as Mia wanted it. 

“Go with him,” Mia said, a pleading note in her voice. 

Mara stood stunned for a moment, “What?”

“To Denerim,” Mia said, “Please.” Mara could see tears glistening in her eyes. Mia was not an overly emotional person, she’d reigned in most of her emotions, had to in order to survive the aftermath of the Blight. So the presence of even the hint of tears put Mara in a panic. 

“I’m needed more here. He’s got Cassandra and Sera and Dagna,” Mara stammered. 

Mia’s face hardened, “We will run the clinic so you can go.”

Mara shifted uncomfortably, she wanted to go but fear crept up her spine, she remembered the last time she’d left her post. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Last time he left I didn’t see him for twenty years,” Mia’s voice shook, “What happens this time?”

Mara paused awkwardly, “Oh Mia, I...um...he’ll come back.” She wished she sounded more reassuring, but she’d never thought of it that way. She’d never considered what Cullen’s leaving would mean for his family. 

Mia glared at her, “Go with him and bring him back safe.” Tears escaped Mia’s eyes, she wiped them away with disdain at the betrayal of her body. 

Mara nodded, “Okay.” She wasn’t sure what kind of person it made her, but she’d go with him, leaving the clinic behind and face whatever consequences came of that. Perhaps her fear of leaving was unfounded, they had two other healers and Barris as well. It would be a lot of work, but if Cullen’s siblings helped, they could do it. Was she so irreplaceable that the clinic would fall apart without her presence? She didn’t believe that at all. 

Mia moved forward tentatively, she pulled her into a hug and Mara tried not to feel too uncomfortable with the contact. 

“Thank you,” Mia whispered as she pulled away, “I know you’ll keep him safe.”

Mara nodded mutely, wondered where Mia got all this confidence in her from, she sure didn’t believe she would be the one to keep him safe. Cassandra would probably manage that much better. She toyed with the sleeve of her jacket awkwardly. How would she bring this up to Cullen?

Mia seemed to read her thoughts, “I’ll tell him you’re going. He doesn’t have a choice.”

Mara laughed then, easing some of the tension in the air around them, “Alright then. I should get packing once I finish up out here, they leave early tomorrow.”

Mia nodded and smiled, “I know you don’t think it makes a difference, you going but it does to me.”

Mara nodded, unsure what to say to that. Mia turned and left and Mara crouched back down close to her plants, she pressed her hand into the soil. Her plants wouldn’t survive more than a day or two without the enchantments to keep them warm. She should care more, more about what was better for everyone than what would be better for her. She was going to go.  

***

She avoided being alone with Cullen for the rest of the day, it wasn’t difficult to do with as many people around as there were. She found herself surprised that she sought out the company of Audra, Lyre and Trina ahead of Sera and Dagna. She never believed she would pick templars over other people, but here she was more than a little worried that she’d say or do the wrong thing around people who knew and loved Cullen so she stuck with the familiar and laughed at that a bit. 

Templars felt familiar, how things had changed. 

The four of them were seated in the infirmary playing a card game. Mara couldn’t remember the name of the game, but each had a deck of cards and worked to create sets as quickly as they could. The first to get rid of their cards won. 

She was furiously laying cards down, the ground scattered in sets, finished and unfinished. It moved so quickly it was hard to keep track of anything beyond the cards in her hand. She was down to just three and spotted a place to put one of her last cards, she reached all the way across the piles stretching and moving as quickly as she could. 

Lyre beat her down, sliding his card in at the last second and throwing his hands in the air, “I’m out!”

“No!” she laughed, as she bowed her head in defeat. 

Audra gave her a shove, “Don’t complain, you won the last round.”

Trina threw her cards down, her stack noticeably larger than anyone else’s, “This is a stupid game.”

Lyre chuckled, “How many cards did you have left?”

Trina frowned, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lyre leaned forward to grab the stack she’d thrown down and she moved faster to scatter the cards so he couldn’t see them with a squeal. 

Mara laughed at the whole exchange beginning to pick up cards when she noticed Cullen leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, a smile across his face. His arms were crossed, his tunic sleeves rolled up as they often were and she couldn’t help but answer his smile with one of her own. 

“You want to join?” she asked. 

“Looks too complicated,” he laughed. 

Audra stood up, placing her set of cards neatly on the ground, “I was actually thinking I might grab some food or something.”

Lyre and Trina followed her lead murmuring their agreement and clearing out of the infirmary quickly. Cullen moved closer, offering his hand to help her up. 

“You sure know how to clear a room,” she joked, accepting Cullen’s hand. 

Cullen laughed and glanced towards the door, “Apparently.”

He looked more serious then and she sighed, “Mia talked to you.”

He nodded, “We didn’t have the chance to talk about it just us. I meant to, but then plans were being made and it seems like everyone else has had more to say than we have.”

“I agree,” she said. 

Cullen hadn’t let go of her hand, “Forget everyone and everything else for a minute. What do you want to do?”

How could she ignore everything and everyone else, and the promise she had made to Mia? But it was just as much a promise to herself as it was for Mia. She shook her head, knew that when she spoke whatever she said would be, “I want to go with you. I’d sleep much better knowing I was at your side.”

“Okay,” he said like she knew he would. 

She moved away, “You’re not going to argue with me about all of the reasons I should stay here and be safe and take care of the clinic?”

Cullen crossed his arms, “Should I?”

She gripped the end of one of the beds, “Maybe? It feels a little like abandoning this place.”

“We can’t be expected to be tied to his place always, with no opportunity to leave and take time away,” he said matter-of-factly. 

She laughed out loud, “I’m sorry, did I just hear Cullen Rutherford suggest we might need to take time off?”

Cullen scowled. 

“I’m serious, do I need to go outside and check if nugs are flying?” she smiled up at him. He still looked grumpy, but his eyes never lied. She could see humor dancing in his golden gaze. 

She shook her head, “What do you want?”

His face softened at her question, and he replied without hesitation, “I want you to be there, I don’t really care how selfish that makes me sound or if it’s the wrong decision.”

“All of this is purely hypothetical, since Mia already made the decision for us,” she said trying to be comforting. 

Cullen laughed, “That she did. Not a lot of room there for me to disagree.”

“So we’re both going then?” she asked. 

He nodded, “Yes. I’ve already talked to Barris. He doesn’t seem at all concerned about being left in charge. I’m not sure if that’s comforting or not.”

“He’ll be just fine,” Mara said with confidence, and with the Rutherford siblings behind him she knew it was true. 

“I promise not to worry too much,” he rubbed his neck. 

“I should probably finish packing up; I was interrupted by the game,” she said glancing to the door. 

Cullen smiled, “I have a few things to prepare as well.” 

***

She was surprised to see Branson in the barn the next morning, the sun was barely beginning to crest the hills but he was in the barn saddling his horse. Audra, Lyre and Trina had all offered up their horses as possible steeds for her to ride to Denerim and so she had come out to see which one of their horses might suit her best. David, Branson’s mabari gave a quiet whoof to announce her presence.  

“Morning,” she said, offering a tentative hand to Bran’s horse. She was a beautiful deep brownish-red with a patch of white down her snout. He’d told her she was a Morgan, a breed native to Ferelden. The horse nudged her, clearly saying she wanted more than a tentative rub. 

“Morning,” Branson smiled, his golden curls still a little sleep disheveled. 

“Are you coming with us?” Mara asked. 

Branson laughed, “The sheep farmer going with you lot? No, but I thought perhaps you might like to take Lyddie.”

Mara was taken aback, “You want me to take your horse?”

Branson didn’t look up from his work, “She’s really easy going, and good at foraging on the road. She’s protective and about as stubborn as my brother, but she’ll take good care of you.”

“Bran?” Mara moved around Lyddie, earning her a disgruntled snort from the horse. 

Bran looked up at her then, “You have to take care of her, and bring her back in one piece. I put one of Rosie’s saddles on her, that’ll be much more comfortable than anything of mine.”

She swallowed hard, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you need a good horse,” Branson replied, “and I’m afraid there aren’t any halla around.”

He smiled then, the attempt at humor not reaching his eyes. 

She smiled weakly, “It’s going to be fine, Bran.”

David whined and Branson sighed, “My brother tends to attract trouble.”

“Not intentionally,” Mara crossed her arms. 

Branson shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. I know Mia asked you to go.”

“She did, but I wanted to go,” Mara admitted. 

“Just be careful, for both your sakes,” Branson looked at her seriously and she didn’t think about it, she just moved forward to hug him. 

It took Branson a moment to respond, but he did. “It’s going to be fine,” she promised. 

“If he loses you or we lose him…” Branson trailed off and she released him. 

“You’re very serious today,” she teased. 

He shoved her, “Yeah, don’t tell anyone, especially Cullen.”

She gave him her best innocent look, “Like I would ever do that.”

“Hard to know what you’d do, Hero,” he smirked. 

She covered her face, “I’m never going to hear the end of that one, am I?”

“You make it too easy,” Branson shrugged. 

Mara changed the subject, “Okay, tell me more about Lyddie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit of a longer chapter than I'd originally intended, but I felt so strongly about each piece of it that I just couldn't cut any of it out. I hit 300 Kudos on this work this week, and I wanted to say thank you! It's just really lovely knowing that others are enjoying the story that I'm telling, so thank you for all of the lovely support.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group begins their journey to Denerim. Cullen makes an unexpected declaration.

Cullen walked into his dark office, the sun was still about an hour off from rising, but he wanted to go back over everything for their trip and the impending absence one more time. 

“Still not great at sleeping, yeah?” a voice came from the couch. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin, “Maker’s breath Sera, could you announce yourself or something?”

“I used to never be able to sneak up on you,” Sera giggled from the couch, “You’re slipping Cully-Wully.”

He rubbed his eyes, “Thank you for that.”

She shrugged, “Just calling ‘em as I see ‘em. You’ll need to be more on your game in Denerim.”

Cullen grit his teeth, “I’m not usually on the lookout for people to attack me in my own house.”

“You should be, that’s where I’d hit people,” Sera leaned back on the couch and threw her legs in the air.

He sighed, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I don’t want to be a shit about the road trip, but I have a question,” she stared up at the ceiling hands behind her head. 

“What did you want to ask?” he leaned forward on his desk giving her his full attention. 

“Any idea who the tit is behind this? Because whoever this is really has it out for you,” Sera said. 

“I know I have my fair share of enemies, but this is so….” he trailed off. 

“Personal,” Sera finished, “If I was hitting someone like this it’d be because I really hated them.”

“The list of people who might hate me could be sprawled across Thedas from Skyhold to Kirkwall and even Kinloch,” he said quietly. 

“Pffft. Not as many people hate you as you think,” Sera said. 

Cullen sighed and went back to his work. Sera wasn’t one that felt that every silence needed to be filled, that companionable silence was just as good as conversation. She’d often hung around his office in the winter months cracking jokes while he worked and he tried to find lines in the missives he knew would make her laugh. It had been a friendship he’d never expected, and while he didn’t love her pranks she reminded him to not be so serious. Her presence in his office felt familiar, reminiscent of a time now past, but calming nonetheless.

“Your sister is a bit of a scary dragon lady, yeah?” Sera asked suddenly. 

Cullen paused and looked up over his desk, “Mia?”

“She the one who you learned your commandery bits from? Because she could have run an army,” Sera was looking at him upside down from the couch. 

Cullen laughed, “Yes, I think she could’ve.”

“She ordered you around and you let her,” Sera commented. 

Cullen considered that for a moment, “Well it helped that I wanted to do what she was ordering me to do, which was have Mara come to Denerim.”

Sera crossed her legs in the air, “It was a right stupid plan to leave her.”

Cullen couldn’t agree more, “It was.”

Sera sighed, “I really thought we were done with red lyrium yeah?”

Cullen shuffled a few papers around his desk before he spoke, “Me too.”

“That stuff gives me the creeps, worse than Fade and magic-y stuff,” Sera said. 

“We’ll take care of it,” Cullen said with confidence. He hoped that this red lyrium in Denerim was an isolated incident and that it didn’t extend past that. It was a foolish hope, but hope nonetheless. 

Sera didn’t respond and Cullen realized that he was probably not going to get a lot of work done anyways, it didn’t really matter. The lists had been made up for days, going over them again wouldn’t change much. 

“How about we go help Sal with getting breakfast made?” he asked. 

Sera perked up, “She’ll let us help?”

“If you’re nice,” Cullen warned. 

Sera stuck out her tongue, “I’m always nice to the person who controls the food.”

He waited for her to extricate herself from the couch before they left his office. She stopped for a moment, looking at the ground and around his office. He could tell she wanted to say something. 

She played with the hem of her shirt, “Cullen?”

“Yes?” he asked, if she was using his name it was serious. 

“I missed you,” she crossed her arms as she said the words as if challenging him to laugh, or worse return the sentiment. 

“I missed you too,” he said gently, “It’s good to have you around.”

Sera smiled, “Yeah? Even if I throw a pie at your face?”

He chuckled, “Even then.”

She scowled, “You’re making it weird.”

“Food then?” he changed the subject. 

Sera smiled mischievously before darting out of the room past him, “Race ya!” 

***

The morning was blue and crisp, the cold bit at his exposed skin. The clouds hung low over the hills, looking almost more like mist than clouds. The hills still retained some green, but the mountains had turned golden brown. Snow crept slowly down the faces before disappearing completely. Winter was upon them.

Cullen walked towards the barn, he wanted to prepare his forder for the journey. He planned to get him saddled and make sure Mara had a horse as well. He was surprised to find Mara in the barn already stroking Lyddie while Branson talked. He envied their friendship, the easy way they interacted with one another. Branson always seemed completely at ease with Mara in a way he never was with him. The guards were down, but then he supposed Mara hadn’t disappeared and ignored him for the better part of twenty years. Maybe time would be the only thing to cure that. 

“Here comes the Commander,” Branson snapped to mock attention, a reaction to Cullen’s armor. 

“Your salute needs some work,” Cullen replied with a smile. 

Mara smiled, “Good morning.”

Lyddie snorted as Cullen came closer. “What are you doing here this early?” he asked Branson. 

Branson smiled, “Thought Lyddie might like to accompany Mara to Denerim.” 

It was such a good idea Cullen was a little annoyed he hadn’t thought of it himself, “That’s a great idea.”

Mara smiled, “Besides, I think she likes me.”

“She just thinks you’ve got treats,” Branson laughed, “She’s my best girl, so if she comes back and won’t listen to me we can’t be friends.”

Mara feigned looking wounded, “I would never!”

They were both laughing and Cullen smiled, “There’s some breakfast in the house if you haven’t eaten yet, Bran.”

“Oh Sal’s cooking,” Branson smiled, “Don’t tell Mia, but Sal’s muffins are better.”

He gave Lyddie a few good rubs before starting towards the door, “Besides I recognize a dismissal when I see one.” He winked before turning out the door. 

Mara smiled, “Your brother was nice enough to insist I take Lyddie.”

“It was a good idea,” Cullen took her hand and pulled her closer to him, “but I also haven’t properly said good morning.”

“Oh?” Mara raised an eyebrow as she eased into his arms, “And how does one do that?”

Cullen answered her with a kiss, brushing his lips over hers gently until her fingers buried themselves in the hair at the back of his head, pulling him closer. He traced her lips with his tongue and was met with quiet sigh as she their tongues met. She pulled back too soon smiling up at him through long lashes. 

“We have things to do this morning,” she admonished him teasingly. 

“There are always things to do,” he murmured before capturing her lips once more. 

She laughed against his lips and he pulled back, “But you’re right.”

“I usually am,” she shrugged as he released her reluctantly. 

He moved towards Sterling, his forder, the stoic beast hardly paid any attention to him as he entered the stall. Lyddie was affectionate, but Sterling was a little above it all. He was a good traveller and had carried Cullen all the way to Adamant and back without any problem, he was just completely uninterested in anything humans did. Cullen had tried to win his affections in the beginning bribing him with all manner of treats. The horse had seemingly rolled his eyes and kept doing his own thing. Cullen had given up and Sterling seemed to prefer it that way. 

“Come here old boy, let’s saddle you up,” Cullen said more for his benefit than Sterling’s. 

“Want some help?” Mara asked from the stall door. 

“The company is plenty of help,” he responded. 

Mara made a show of being exasperated by his sappy comment, but he could see the bit of blush across her cheeks. 

“So, how many times did you go over your lists and instructions for Barris this morning?” she asked, resting her cheek on her hand. 

“Just once,” Cullen admitted. 

Mara shot him a look of disbelief. 

“You can ask Sera, she was there,” Cullen offered in his defense. 

Mara sighed, “I’ll take your word for it.”

Cullen shot her a look, “How many times did you go over yours?”

Mara glared at him, but her gaze softened and she laughed, her green eyes bright, “Twice.”

He laughed, “That’s what I love about you.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. It was almost as if he watched the whole thing happen from yards away, trying to reach himself and stop the words from escaping his lips. But a small part of him hoped, that perhaps now he’d said them she might offer them in return. Mara’s eyes went wide with terror as she realized what he had said, and all hope inside him shattered. 

Mara recovered first, eyes falling to the ground, “I...um...thank you.”

“I...uh...of course I’m not in love with you...I mean I love you...but I’m not in love with you it’s too soon for that...of course it’s too soon for that,” he stammered trying in vain to salvage the situation. 

Mara bit her lip and nodded, “Yeah…” She still didn’t meet his eyes, and it hurt. Something within his chest ached while his stomach knotted itself into worry. Had he scared her off with his unintended declaration? He wished he could go back in time and never have let those words out, not yet. He meant to give them to her, but in the right place and time and when he was sure she would return them. 

Silence fell between them and he looked away from her, unable to see past his pain for the moment. His heart thudded within his chest, he could hear it thundering in his ears and his cheeks heating. 

“Cullen...I…” she began tentatively, but stopped with the barn door opened. 

Cassandra, Sera and Dagna entered and Mara greeted them cheerily before excusing herself and slipping out of the barn. All the while Cullen silently cursed his stupidity. 

***

Everyone saw them off except Mia, Matthew and the kids. She’d said goodbye the night before, hugging him for a long while and making sure he promised to be careful. He had promised. He wondered if there were some things Mia couldn’t do, and seeing him off was one of them. He remembered the last time he’d said goodbye to his siblings before leaving, his parents had been there and Rosie was so young. He remembered she mostly cried and didn’t understand why he had to go. She had been the only one to cry, he thought perhaps he had seen tears escaping his mother’s eyes as he rode away. He’d traced the outline of the coin Branson had given him that morning that rode safely in his pocket, and his thirteen year old self had wavered for a moment in his resolve to go. That was the last time he had seen his parents. 

His throat suddenly felt tight as he hugged Branson and Rosalie goodbye. They’d held him a little too tightly, and he quietly vowed that they wouldn’t fail. He’d leave now to keep them safe, to keep everyone safe, and then he would come back home. 

Mara had seemed overwhelmed by the love and care everyone paid her as she left, he noticed her biting her lip as they swung up into their saddles, a clear sign that she was trying to hold her emotions back. 

He wanted to talk to her, to say something, anything. To have her talk to him but he wasn’t sure what to say, what could be said in front of everyone. What had she wanted to say to him before they were interrupted? He was sure it wasn’t to return his bumbling declaration he’d backtracked from. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that she could see right through his attempt to back away from the phrase. He should have owned up to it, told her he loved her and that she didn’t need to feel the same yet. 

All of the fear swirling inside him had everything to do with feeling as if he’d rushed her, scared her away. She was the best and brightest spot in his life and if he lost her he wasn’t sure what he would do. He knew what he would do, he would let her go and he would endure it. He wasn’t sure if his heart could handle being broken like that, but he would try to survive it. She was it, she was all he could ever want, ever dream of and he would gladly walk by her side for the rest of her days. Even if that was all he could ever have. He loved her, and next time they had a private moment and he could know what she was thinking he wanted to tell her.

He should be more concerned about their mission to Denerim and the red lyrium, but he found it incredibly difficult to focus on that instead of the events of the morning. People’s lives were in danger and he was worried about his relationship. A drop in the ocean in the grand scheme of things. He tried not to glance her way too often, but his eyes seemed to seek her out. She seemed fidgety and sometimes she would meet his gaze only to look immediately away. He warned himself not to overthink that.  

Mara and Dagna rode side by side on the road, Dagna was grilling Mara about Dalish magic and casting methods. They spent a long time talking about the garden and how Dagna might find some way to create a rune that could be used by anyone to keep food growing in the winter, and how that could change lives for farmers and the types of food that could be grown. Like a greenhouse without the house, Dagna had said.  

Cullen rode with Cassandra, Sera leading the way in front of them. Cassandra preferred traveling without filling every moment with conversation and Sera had shook her head and murmured something about magic and ridden up ahead of them. 

Denerim was about two and a half days travel on horseback from South Reach, the Imperial Highway was a good road, safe and well travelled. They passed many travellers heading home after Satinalia celebrations and merchants on the road. The travellers put Cullen on edge, there was no way to know if the merchants carried red lyrium in their caravans, and the thought made him surlier each person they passed. Red lyrium was like a disease, it could spread anywhere and there was so little to be done to stop it. It was a discouraging thought, and a grim reminder of what they might be up against. 

After pausing for a midday meal he was excited to be riding beside Mara, the wind had picked up during their stop. Once they were riding it was blowing hard enough to steal any words that might have left his lips. She’d smiled and shrugged after a few failed attempts at speaking and Cullen had given up. Perhaps they would find some time that evening. 

The wind that blew that afternoon was biting and cold, blowing the dying grass that ran along the road in their wake. Mara had pulled up her scarf to cover her head as they traversed the brown hills. Trees stood bare ahead of them in solemn reminder that winter was nearing, Cullen glanced up at the gray sky and hoped there wouldn’t be snow as they traveled. The wind created a sort of vacuum, and Cullen felt as if he might as well have been travelling alone, and all he had for company were his thoughts. 

He spent the time going back over everything, worried that he’d managed to ruin everything. Why had she left? Slipped away as soon as she was able? He had so many questions, and so few could be answered. 

The sun dipped low in the sky early, and Sera brought them all to a stop. The wind had died down somewhat and Sera led them off of the road a ways to a small cove in the hill. It had obviously been used by other travelers, the unmistakeable signs of human life in the wild part of the forest were there. A campfire ring, bits of glass bottles, and tracks from wagons and animals told him this was a place frequented by others. The cove shielded them from the worst of the wind though. “A good a place as any to camp,” Sera looked back at them. 

Cassandra nodded, “It will do very well I think, how did you know this was here?”

Sera shrugged, “Travelled this road a few times. You just have to be looking for it.” Sera dismounted from her horse and stretched a bit before helping Dagna down from hers. 

Mara slid from her horse next to him and held out her hand, “I’ll take Lyddie and Sterling and get them set up for the night.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, to ask her to wait or something. Instead he passed her the reins, “Thank you.” He pulled his packs off of Sterling and pulled Mara’s from Lyddie as well. 

She smiled at him in thanks as she led the horses away. 

He stared down at the packs feeling conflicted. He’d intended to speak to her about sleeping arrangements, he’d hoped she would want to share a tent with him but he had never asked. They had spent a few nights together, but nothing quite as purposeful or public as this. It would be more practical to just set up one tent, but after this morning Cullen was worried that would be an overstep on his part. 

Sera cocked her head at him, “Hey, don’t just stand there, it’s getting dark!”

So he set up two tents. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stole a bit from my own life here. When my husband and I were dating, he told me he loved me very accidentally and then backtracked from it so fast. We think it's funny now, and when I was deciding how Cullen might tell Mara he loved her, it just felt right. Anyways, thank you so much for reading! Tell me what you think below!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara isn't sure where things stand with Cullen, and then she discovers he's set up two tents.

The sky above Mara was deep navy that faded into golden orange as it hit lines of clouds. The cove they were in was too covered to afford a view of the sun setting behind the distant mountains, but she knew it must almost close to disappearing because the temperature was plummeting. She pulled her coat a little tighter as she brushed Sterling. She’d already settled Lyddie in for the night and she was happily munching a ways off. Sterling flicked his tail at her, a clear sign that he was quite ready for her to be done. 

“Yeah you’re good you impatient beast,” she said quietly as she picked up the saddles and other gear. She could see the cheery light of the fire up ahead and she wanted very badly to be nearer to it, but that also meant being near Cullen. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be near Cullen, it was just that this morning had gone so terribly wrong. He had said he loved her, and she was relatively sure he meant it despite how he’d immediately caught himself and backtracked. The backtracking made her even sure he’d meant it. It had seemed like he had wanted to talk to her most of the day, she hadn’t missed his glances and he looked a little unsure when she’d offered to take the horses as well. 

Was it incredibly selfish to want him to love her when she wasn’t sure she loved him? Her heart fluttered a bit at the thought, that he might be in love with her. In love with  _ her.  _ She hadn’t really ever believed that she would stay long enough in one place for someone to love her, to care about her and having found him it was completely wonderful and difficult all at once. She’d never done this, what was love anyways? The only people she knew for sure she’d loved were her parents, but this was so different. She didn’t want to hurt Cullen, but she also didn’t want to get hurt herself. She desperately wanted to be in love with him, but what would happen if she was? What if something happened to him? What if he changed his mind someday?  

This was precisely why she never formed attachments. 

But she was attached now, and she wasn’t going anywhere, wasn’t running anymore. The only way to know what Cullen was thinking was to face this head on. So she walked back to camp. 

She could feel the fire as she neared it, the warmth rolling off of it made her want to sigh. Ferelden was too damn cold. It didn’t matter how long she’d been in the south, she didn’t think she’d ever acclimate to it. 

She set the saddles, blankets and bridles down, close enough to the fire to keep the frost off, but not near enough to damage them. Cullen walked over from a tent he’d been working on and met her. There were four tents set up around the fire and for a moment she didn’t consider what that meant. 

“I set up a tent for you,” Cullen said, eyes calculating as he spoke. 

She concealed her surprise, they hadn’t talked about sleeping arrangements. Of course he would set up her own tent. It was what was proper, and understandable. At least that was what she told herself as her heart sank. 

“Oh. Thank you,” she mustered up a smile. 

“You’re welcome,” Cullen replied, “I put your pack in it for you.” 

She glanced at the tent he gestured to and nodded, “Thanks, I have a few things in it I’m going to get.”

Cullen looked like he wanted to say something else but he just nodded and she walked away. She ducked inside the tent, the emptiness of it threatening to swallow her whole. She took a deep breath, feeling a storm of emotion building within her. She was angry, hurt, and there was this ridiculous feeling of rejection. Her mind began supplying reasons and explanations for it in the darkness that were far from comforting. She tried to banish them, she did not want to read anything into what it meant in light of what happened that morning. She would get a grip on herself and she would go back out there, and Cullen setting up separate tents didn’t mean a thing. Did it? 

***

After a meal mostly spent listening to Sera tell stories she’d retired to her tent when everyone else did. She had second watch so she needed to sleep, but instead she laid awake and stared at the ceiling of her tent. Cullen was on first watch and they’d never found a second to speak alone, so she’d gone to bed. The tension surrounding them both told her Cullen wanted to speak to her as well, but this was hardly the time, surrounded by his friends and on their way to Denerim. She chided herself for being so concerned about where things stood with him that she was forgetting why they were there. 

Red lyrium in Denerim. She repeated it like a mantra, she didn’t want to forget the stakes. And yet her mind wouldn’t quiet for even a moment. 

Why had he set up two tents? Sleeping with one another was nothing new, they’d done that a handful of times. Did he not want to share a tent with her in front of his friends? Or was he upset about what had happened that morning and putting distance between them? Logically she knew she was being ridiculous, but that didn’t seem to stop the feeling of rejection that clawed its way through her. 

She laid on her bedroll awake, she’d tried to sleep for the better part of an hour but it wasn’t happening. She sat up clutching her knees and debating what to do. Now was as good a time as any, right? He’d be alone, and everyone would be asleep and they could speak with relative privacy. She cursed the chill as she left her bedroll to pull on her boots and coat. Her coat was cold and sent her shivering, she reminded herself the fire would be warmer, another incentive to get herself out there. She poked her head out of the tent, Cullen’s back was to her and he was sitting dutifully, staring out into the darkness of the trees towards the road. A weak breeze blew, making the bare boughs of the trees sway. The brittle branches brushed against each other making popping and crackling noises that were enough to keep anyone on watch alert. She took a deep breath and walked out, careful to make enough noise so he wouldn’t get spooked. 

He turned at the sound of her walking, “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Couldn’t,” she said as she moved tentatively closer. 

He chuckled darkly, “I know the feeling. Why do you think I took first watch?”

So it wasn’t just her then. She sat down next to him on a log they’d pulled during dinner. Cullen didn’t look at her, his eyes trained ahead. She kept some distance between them, wasn’t sure what to say or what to do, but somehow it felt safer to have a few more inches than usual between them.

They sat in silence together and Mara wished she’d figured out what to say before she’d come out. It felt strange to just come out and ask him, do you love me? Especially when she knew she couldn’t return the sentiment. She swallowed hard staring into the white, hot glowing embers of the fire beneath the logs of wood.  

“We should talk about this morning,” she finally managed. 

Cullen replied, “We should.” 

“I….” she found herself lost for words and then suddenly they were spilling out, “You set up two tents.” She hadn’t meant the words to sound so accusing, but they did. 

Cullen stiffened next to her, “Um….I thought it best.”

“Because of this morning?” she asked, afraid of the answer. 

“No!” Cullen took her hand and she finally looked at him, “Because we hadn’t talked about it. I didn’t want to...make assumptions.”

Of course he hadn’t. He was always trying to ensure she was comfortable. She shouldn’t have read into it the way she had. She felt like some silly girl, upset over something so trivial. All of the emotions she had been feeling all day were quietly replaced with shame. She looked away, watching their shadows the fire cast on the rocks behind them, “I thought maybe….I don’t know that because I hadn’t said it back you were upset or something.”

His hand rested gently on her cheek and pulled her gaze back to his, “Mara, I wouldn’t do that, punish you for not returning my feelings.”

She paused for a moment, her breath catching, “So you…”

He nodded, “I love you.” There they were, the words so freely given. They made her feel pleasantly dizzy, and she smiled. 

“I’m sorry that I said I didn’t, they just came out and I panicked. I was afraid that it was too soon, that it might be too much,” Cullen said his golden eyes so earnest she wanted to say them back. She wanted to make him as happy as he’d made her, but she held back. 

“Cullen,” she began, could see him brace himself for what she might say his whole body seemed to prepare itself for a blow. How quick he was to doubt her, doubt them. She squeezed his hand, “I care for you, so much. This is all new for me. I’m not sure I know what being in love feels like, and I don’t want to give you those words until I’m sure. Absolutely and completely sure.”

Cullen looked relieved and smiled, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I don’t want you to be afraid of telling me what you feel,” she said. 

His gaze was tender, so full of affection she could hardly think. He smiled, “I love you.” 

He brushed his lips across her forehead, “I love you.” Trailed kisses down her cheeks, murmuring the words after every press of his lips until he held her, his lips a whisper away as he repeated the words once more before kissing her properly. 

When he pulled away they were both breathless and Cullen looked happier than she’d ever seen him. The way he looked made her heart skip a few beats, she did this to him, she made him happy. She returned his smile and his arm wound around her waist, pulling her closer. She moved to rest her head against his shoulder, but he was still wearing his armor and his pauldrons made it enormously uncomfortable. 

Cullen noticed, “Oh...better plan.” He let go of her and moved down to the ground so he was leaned up against the log instead of sitting on it. She read his intention immediately and settled down on the ground next to him, laying her head in his lap. 

“Much better,” she murmured as she closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the fire and being close to him. 

His fingers lazily combed through her hair, “Get some sleep.”

“Wake me for my watch?” she yawned. 

“Of course,” he promised. She laid comfortably and happily, letting the soothing pull of his fingers through her hair lull her to sleep. 

***

Cullen had awoken her for her watch very apologetically. She was sure by the position of the moons that he’d taken more time than his fair share, but he looked exhausted, the shadows under his eyes more pronounced in the dim light. 

“You should go rest now,” she said, shaking off the last bits of the Fade that wanted to cling to her as she sat up and stretched. 

Cullen shrugged, “I can stay out here with you.”

She chuckled and shook her head, “You won’t sleep well and you know it.”

He sighed, “I know.”

She nudged his arm, “Go, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Cullen kissed her temple before he stood up, “Goodnight.”

She smiled as he walked to his tent, “Goodnight, Cully-Wully.”

He froze and turned back, “I knew you were going to pull that out at some point.”

She laughed, “But you weren’t expecting it then.”

He shook his head, “Can’t say I was. Expect retaliation.”

“I look forward to it,” she replied. Cullen threw her one last tired smile her way before ducking inside his tent. She couldn’t keep herself from smiling as she began her watch, things were going to be just fine. 

Mara wasn’t a stranger to watches, had to take them every time she’d travelled with the Inquisition. Her thoughts were usually plenty to keep her company and that evening was no different. She traced the constellations above her for a long while, and then she picked up a small piece of wood and quietly whittled at it without much direction. 

Cassandra’s tent flap moved long before she was due for her watch. She looked somewhat tired, but mostly resolved as she joined her by the fire. 

“You’re early,” Mara commented quietly. 

“Woke up, couldn’t get back to sleep,” Cassandra replied rubbing her eyes. 

Mara nodded, “Seems to be a common occurrence around here.”

“Except for Sera and Dagna, those two seem to be able to sleep through anything,” Cassandra sighed, “There was a time I was more used to being on the road, but it’s been a long time since we faced something like we do now.”

“With any luck we’ll reach Denerim in a day and a half,” Mara tried to sound optimistic. 

Cassandra nodded, “So you and Cullen?” 

Mara still felt a little uneasy around the Seeker, and it had nothing to do with how kind Cassandra had been. She just made her nervous, she was strong and so sure of herself. The fire lengthened the shadows on Cassandra’s face, making the angles of her face sharper but no less stunning. 

“Yes,” Mara said tentatively, unsure where the conversation was going to go from here. 

Cassandra took a deep breath, “What did he tell you about Lorraine?”

Mara shrugged, “Very little. I know they were….involved and that she ended things. She’s getting married in the spring.”

“So nothing?” Cassandra sounded frustrated. 

“Does it matter?” Mara asked, it didn’t really matter to her. Sometimes she wondered how she might ever measure up to the legend that was the Inquisitor, it was a hard act to follow. But Cullen never appeared to be making any comparisons, and so she didn’t either.   

“His relationship with Lorraine was surprising to me. She’s rather cold and calculating and I never saw them as a good match. I do not wish to speak ill of my friend, but her behavior with Cullen was abhorrent.”

“Oh?” Mara asked, curiosity piqued. 

“They were together about a year. Cullen came to me and told me of his plans to ask for her hand in marriage. He seemed so happy, and despite my reservations I was happy for them both. But a week later he found letters in their quarters to Edmund, her fiance. Lorraine was always very good at keeping secrets. I believe he found the letters because she wished him to find them. Cullen was never angry about it. Dejected and hurt, yes, but never angry. It seemed to me as if he didn’t blame her one bit. I visited him one evening, he’d had a bit to drink but he’d said ‘why wouldn’t she pick him, someone whole and with a title?’” Cassandra explained, her words quiet. 

Mara’s heart broke as Cassandra spoke, “Oh.”

“So I think now you will understand why I want to ask you about your intentions. Lorraine broke his heart, but he seems truly happy now,” Cassandra said carefully. 

Mara laughed, “You want to know my intentions?”

Cassandra frowned, “He is my friend, and I care for his happiness.”

Mara sighed, “Alright then. Only because I’d rather not face your wrath. He is the most important person in my life. I….am not sure I could ever walk away from him unless he requested it.”

“He will not,” Cassandra said with surety. 

“Then I’m not going anywhere,” Mara promised. 

Cassandra nodded, “Good. My wrath?”

“Oh yes, I believe that if you wanted to you could very much break me in two,” Mara chuckled. 

Cassandra made a disgusted noise, “You overestimate my abilities, I understand you are very skilled with daggers, odd for a mage.”

Mara shrugged, “My father was a fine warrior, he never wanted me to rely on my magic in a fight.”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Because magic can be taken away. A templar can Silence you, and then what? You’re defenseless.”

“I hadn’t considered it,” Cassandra admitted, “You don’t carry a staff at all?”

Mara shook her head, “Don’t need it, I don’t like to use my magic in combat.”

Cassandra looked at her in surprise, “Why not?”

“Doesn’t your Chantry teach that ‘magic is to serve man not to rule over him’ or something, you shouldn’t be so surprised,” Mara tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. 

Cassandra scrutinized her, “Is that what you believe?”

“No.”

“Then why not use it?”

Mara buried her hands in her pockets, “I just don’t like to.” There were a lot of reasons, but she didn’t owe the Seeker any of them. The only person who mattered knew them, and that was enough. 

“Your reasons are your own, I understand. You are a very surprising person, you’ve left the Dalish life and you know the beliefs of the Chantry, but don’t believe in them. What do you believe?”

“Something in between,” Mara smiled. 

Cassandra nodded, “I see problems with it all, I do. But I know that I can make changes from within much better than from without.”

“People have to want change. My people have held on so long to tradition that they refuse to adapt and change,” Mara said. 

“You won’t ever go back?” Cassandra asked surprised. 

“Perhaps one last time, just to give everyone a proper goodbye. I knew I wasn’t coming back when I left for the Conclave, but they didn’t,” she replied. 

“Did you ever consider if you weren’t late for the Conclave how things might have been different? I wonder about that a lot. If I hadn’t been in Haven, if I’d been at the Temple that day what might have changed,” Cassandra said quietly. 

“We’d likely both be dead,” Mara was sure of that much. 

“You are probably right,” Cassandra sighed, “I just consider how my life has changed so much in the past few years, it is so much different than I imagined.”

Mara looked at the Seeker, seeing her for the first time as not the Right Hand of the Divine but Cassandra, a woman who had been caught up in the events and wasn’t quite sure of her place in them. They weren’t that different. “Are you happy with where your life is now?”

Cassandra nodded, “Yes. My life has purpose. Rebuilding the Seekers has made me happier than I believed it could, I have very few complaints about my life.”

“I know that we don’t know each other well, but I’m glad,” Mara said. 

Cassandra smiled, “What is it you are carving?”

“I wasn’t entirely sure, but it seems to be sort of horse-like?” Mara laughed handing her the small piece of wood. 

Cassandra turned it over in her hands, “It’s a lovely skill. I’m afraid I never learned anything like it.”

“I do not claim to be any expert, but I can show you if you’d like,” Mara offered. 

“I would like that,” Cassandra said. 

They spent the rest of the night in easy conversation until the sky above them lightened to light blue with the rising sun and the camp began to wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love this chapter a lot. Cullen is showing character development by actually sharing his feelings and Cassandra and Mara are becoming friends! Yay! Thank you for reading! I'm curious to hear your thoughts :)


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second day of travel for the crew. Gets a little NSFW at the end (no not THAT NSFW, but we're working towards it...slowly).

Cullen awoke in his tent disoriented. Where was he? It took him a few moments as the Fade still grasped at him until he recognized the canvas above him, realized he was lying on a bedroll. He was on the Imperial Highway, on his way to Denerim. He took a few steadying breaths. 

At least he hadn’t had nightmares during the night, not true ones. There had been a red tinge to everything in the Fade, and they seemed to be getting redder the nearer they moved to Denerim. He wasn’t sure if it was real or some trick of the Fade, but at least they hadn’t been bad enough to wake him screaming and terrified and unsure what was real. Thank the Maker for small mercies. 

He’d discarded his armor the night before as he’d entered the tent, too tired to put it away properly and he dealt with the haphazard mess this morning. There was a degree of order that had to be observed when attaching armor, and so he spent more time than he liked searching for each piece along the floor of the tent. He was sure it was still early, he could tell the sky wasn’t bright and no one had woken him so they weren’t ready to get moving yet, he exited his tent his eyes watering a bit meeting the cold rush of air. 

Cullen was surprised to see Cassandra and Mara sitting together by the fire looking thick as thieves. They were chatting quietly, words too soft for him to catch and both working on something in their hands. It made him happier than he could express to see the two of them talking and getting along with each other. He hadn’t expected to be quite so thrilled at Mara getting along with his friends, Cassandra and the other members of the Inquisition had been his family for years and it was nice to see that she fit in so seamlessly with them as she did his actual family. He also hadn’t expected to be quite so content with his life this morning. He’d handed his heart over to Mara last night, whatever was left of it after all these years belonged to her, wholly and completely. She hadn’t given hers back and he was surprised at how little it bothered him. She wanted to be sure before she did, and that made sense. Mara was cautious with everyone but herself, if someone could be hurt by anything she tread lightly. He would give her all the time she needed. 

But he realized as he approached Cassandra and Mara that if Mara was awake now, she likely hadn’t slept after her watch. Again there it was, that recklessness with herself. He shook his head. 

“Morning,” he called, his voice hoarse from sleep. 

Cassandra glanced up, “Good morning.”

Mara continued working, but she gave him a wink when she finally looked up, “Hello.”

He sat down on one of the logs next to the fire, “You didn’t go back to sleep after your watch.”

Mara shrugged, “Wasn’t terribly tired.”

“You’ll be regretting that this afternoon,” Cassandra said apologetically, “I kept you up.”

Mara ignored the comment, “Let’s see how your halla turned out.”

Cassandra handed over the small piece of wood she’d been whittling at to Mara, “I think it looks like a child did it.”

Mara shook her head, “For a first attempt it’s really well done. A bit more practice. Here, an objective opinion.”

Mara handed the halla to him, he took the crudely carved figure in his hands. It wasn’t perfect, but it was clearly a halla. 

“This was your first attempt?” Cullen asked, impressed. 

“You are trying to flatter me,” Cassandra scoffed. 

“Better than I could do, I’m sure,” Cullen said, handing it back to Cassandra. She took and held it like it was precious and Cullen was sure she’d found a new hobby. 

“I’m going to pack up,” Cassandra said as she stood, “Thank you, Mara.”

“Of course,” Mara smiled up at her. 

As she disappeared into her tent Cullen moved closer to Mara,“What were you working on?”

She handed her work to him, “See for yourself.”

Her carving was much more smooth than Cassandra’s, clearly more practiced. It was a horse and the more he looked at it the more familiar it became. “Sterling?” he asked. 

Mara flashed him a smile, “Yes. I’m glad you could tell. I thought perhaps I might make one of Lyddie for Bran, to say thank you.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” he said and held out his hand to her, the small horse in the middle of his palm.

Instead of taking it she closed his fingers over it, “It’s yours. I made it for you.”

The sky above them was slowly lightening and Cullen clutched the carving carefully. Mara stretched beside him, as if she’d been in the same position too long and ran fingers through her disheveled hair. Her green eyes seemed to reflect all of the light in the cove, bright and quietly tired. He went to reach for her, but then Sera all but tumbled out of the tent she shared with Dagna. 

Sera in the morning was a bit like having a wild mabari around. She could be cordial and normal one moment and then be grumpy and on the attack the next. Cullen found that it was safest to give her a little space, especially if being up early was not really her idea. Sera glared around camp through bleary eyes. 

“Why isn’t there food?” Sera demanded. 

Mara glanced his way, “We can make some?”

Sera clutched her head, “There were people up and talking, that usually means food.”

“In a few minutes it will,” Cullen assured her, then before thinking better of it, “Come with me and we’ll get the horses ready.”

“I’m going to take a piss in the woods first,” Sera grumbled as she followed him, “No peeking!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Cullen replied, he tucked the horse figurine into his pocket as he moved towards Sterling and keeping his back towards wherever she’d gone. 

Sterling snorted quietly as Cullen approached, the closest he was probably going to get to being acknowledged by the horse. Lyddie, however, wandered right over to him, giving him a nudge and poking her head around in search of treats. Cassandra, Sera, and Dagna’s horses largely ignored him and continued grazing around the small clearing. 

Cullen was sure as he tacked up Sterling he could hear something behind him, but he didn’t pause in his work to give any indication he’d heard anything. Now he was listening for it, he could hear the quiet padding of feet on the ground, slowly getting closer. He waited until he was sure she was directly behind him and turned just in time to catch Sera lunging at him. A horse with more interest in humans, might have been spooked by the whole thing, but not Sterling. He was stoic as ever, and completely disinterested. 

Sera smiled as he caught her wrist, “Knew you still had it in you.”

He released her, “What are you talking about?”

Sera shrugged, “You know, I scared the shite out of you yesterday. Now you’re actually paying attention.”

Cullen chuckled and tried not to feel too defensive, “Well, having you around does keep people on their toes.”

Sera giggled and gave Lyddie a quick pet, “Yeah? Well you love me.”

“We all do,” Dagna called cheerily from the circle of tents. Mara and Cassandra worked at the fire, getting breakfast ready.

Dagna was already in full armor, and was pulling her auburn hair into a bun as she walked. Sera’s face immediately lit up at her presence, and Cullen couldn’t help but smile. 

“Morning!” Sera bounced over and kissed her wife. Cullen suddenly felt awkward, like he was intruding on a private moment and turned back to continue working. 

“Oh, I think we’re embarrassing Cullen,” Dagna said. 

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, “I was just trying to give you two some privacy.”

“If I wanted privacy I wouldn’t be kissin’ her in front of everyone,” Sera shook her head, “You know kind of how you used to always be up on the battlements snogging-” Dagna nudged Sera’s arm and gave Cullen an apologetic look. 

Sera’s gaze skittered away and she picked up a saddle and walked to her horse, “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s alright,” Cullen said, and it was. There was no more pain attached to the memories. 

Sera seemed unconvinced, “Really?”

“Yes,” and then to make a point, “Are you going to the wedding?”

Dagna smiled, blue eyes matching the morning sky, “Oh yes! It’s going to be exciting, everyone will be there. Are you?”

Cullen began tacking up Lyddie, “I’m not sure…”

Sera’s face scrunched up, “Why? Lorr did get you an invitation right?”

“She did,” Cullen replied and glanced behind them towards Mara and Cassandra, “It’s just…” He wasn’t sure what to say. It would be good to see everyone again, but he didn’t want to be away from Mara that long. 

“Oh,” Dagna seemed to figure out what he was thinking, “bring her.”

“What?” Cullen froze. 

Sera nodded, “Bring Mara. She’d get along with everyone, plus Lorr wouldn’t care. There’s already going to be so many nobles there with their noses in the air. Be good to have more people there. You know, normal people, balance things.”

“I don’t know,” Cullen replied, the invitation had said to bring whoever he wanted. He just wasn’t sure how to bring it up to Mara. Please come to my ex’s wedding with me? What a mess. 

Dagna sensed the direction his thoughts had taken, “Everyone would be disappointed if you weren’t there. Besides, it can’t be any more complicated than when I took Sera home to meet my father.”

Sera snorted, “Yeah that was good.”

“And by good she means?” Cullen asked Dagna. 

“A complete and utter disaster. If I thought my father was disappointed in me when I went to study magic in the circle, it didn’t even come close to what happened when we visited,” Dagna laughed, despite the difficulty of the topic still maintaining her characteristic cheeriness. 

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said. 

Dagna shrugged, “It’s okay. Now I get to adventure all over Thedas with this one, and continue to study magic. Everything worked out better than I could have ever hoped.”

“Her point is, that the messy bits always happen. So if that’s what you’re worried about, they’ll happen anyways. So just bring her,” Sera crossed her arms. 

“I’ll definitely talk to her about it,” Cullen promised, “After we take care of the red lyrium. I think moving from one potential disaster to another is probably better than piling them all on at once.”

Sera nodded, “Can’t argue with that logic.”

Once the horses had been prepared they ate quickly and broke camp, moving back onto the road. The travel made Cullen anxious, he had huge stretches of time to himself and nothing to keep him company but his thoughts. He spent far too much time worrying and considering different scenarios in his head. All he wanted was to be in Denerim now, so that they could get to work. Despite making good time the first day, they were still a little more than a day’s ride out from Denerim. Which meant they would camp once more and then hopefully be in Denerim by late afternoon by the latest the next day. 

Sera seemed to notice his anxious mood and did her best to distract him with a game of I-spy. He was pretty dreadful at it, Sera picked the most obscure things she could find along the road and always guessed his within a few moments. Cassandra flat out refused to play, suggesting instead that they find something quieter to do while they traveled. 

Sera had scoffed at that, which had led to Cassandra getting annoyed and riding ahead of everyone and Mara and Dagna following in an effort to keep the peace. Which left just Sera and Cullen playing I-spy and Sera winning almost every round. He promised himself that he’d sit Sera down for a game of chess when this was all over and have his revenge. 

They stopped for camp as the sun dipped low in the sky, making their shadows long and the temperatures drop. Cullen could see his breath as he worked, coming in white puffs of air as they worked to set everything up before they lost the light. They’d settled the horses in first, but their water supply was low and so Mara and Cassandra had gone to find a creek nearby that Sera promised was just to their west. Cullen set up tents and collected firewood to keep the fire burning all night. Dagna and Sera cooked some animal Sera had shot, he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask a lot of questions about what it was exactly. 

Mara and Cassandra reappeared after replenishing their water supply. They carried the water skins between them and were laughing about something. The group ate in relative silence, everyone was tired from two days on the road and once the food was finished Cassandra retired after bidding everyone good night, Dagna followed soon after and Sera stretched out on the ground beside the fire. 

“Notice anything?” he asked just loud enough for Mara to hear. 

She glanced around and smiled. “You set up one tent,” she laughed. 

He wrapped an arm around her, “I did. And since you effectively took two watches last night, you’re off for tonight.”

“And yours?” she asked with a mischievous smile. 

“Third,” he replied. Sera and Dagna had first and second watches respectively, and would wake him for his. 

“Alright then, I think I’m going to bed then,” she smirked, a clear invitation. 

“I’ll be right in,” feeling a grin coming to his own face. He wanted to follow immediately, but this was new territory for them and he wanted to give her a few moments to herself. He noticed Sera was scribbling away in a notebook. 

“What are you working on?” he asked quietly. 

“Just things...ideas...stuff,” Sera replied with a shrug. 

“Like?” he asked. 

“Bees mostly. There have to be more ways to use bees,” Sera murmured without looking up at him. 

Cullen decided not to pry further into how terrifying it would be if Sera found more ways to use bees. Once she’d managed to get a whole hive into a training dummy, but couldn’t tell anyone how she’d done it. Perhaps that was what the notebook was for. 

“Goodnight, Sera,” he said as he stood up legs already stiffening from just being seated while they ate. 

She waved him off without looking up from her work. He ducked into the tent, Mara knelt on one side, folding her clothing and placing her armor neatly out of the way. She wore the same loose sleeping tunic he’d seen her wear at the estate. 

She looked up at him as he entered, “Didn’t change your mind I see.”

“Of course not,” he smiled as he began removing his armor, “Just telling Sera goodnight.”

“Mmmm?” she settled so that she faced him, appreciative gaze roving over him as he undressed. 

He felt his cheeks warming, he couldn’t quite meet her gaze but was aware of it all the same. Once he had removed his armor he settled himself down on his bedroll, hyper aware of the space between them. It was far too much, and neither of them seemed to know how to move beyond it. Cullen took comfort in knowing that she was just as nervous as he was. Perhaps more so. 

He kept his voice gentle, “Come here.”

She looked relieved and joined him on the bedroll, moving into the circle of his arms. He pulled her in and held her tightly to his chest, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she curled her hands in his tunic. 

“I love you,” he whispered, still in awe at saying it.

She pulled back just enough so that her head was no longer against his chest. She ran a hand along his cheek tenderly and leaned up until their lips met. Lately when they kissed it there had always been something looming over them, something that required their immediate attention. There hadn’t been the option to linger, but now there was. Maker take him, he found it hard to worry about Denerim when he just wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. Her arms wound around his neck as they kissed. She gently bit his bottom lip and if that wasn’t enough to drive anyone crazy he wasn’t sure what was. He held her tighter as their tongues slid together, and he laid her down on the bedroll their bodies fitting together perfectly. 

Her hair had fanned out above her in a mess of blonde that he couldn’t help but run his fingers through. She sighed as his fingers trailed through her hair, pulling him closer and hitching a leg over his hip. That was all the encouragement he needed, one of his hands running down her side. Her hands moved to his hair, cold fingers sending chills down his spine as her nails scraped against his scalp. 

He tried to stifle a groan, unsuccessfully, as her hips rocked into his. Maker, he wasn’t sure there was anything in all of Thedas that could compare to her touching him, his erection was already straining against his breeches. It was too much and not nearly enough all at once. He wanted more of her, more than clinging lips and shared breaths. 

Indecision gripped him for a moment, but then his name left her lips as he kissed the bared skin at her neck and spurred him forward. He rucked her tunic up cautiously, giving her the opportunity to stop him, but when his hand met her bare skin she arched into his touch. Her skin was warm, silky smooth under his fingertips and he moved slowly higher. Mara’s skin was a beautiful paradox, skin warm but fingers like ice. He wanted to learn it all, map every scar, freckle and curve. 

There would never be taking more than she would give, so he paused, pulling back just enough so that he could see her. “Is this okay?” he whispered. 

Mara’s green eyes were wide and she was breathing hard, but she nodded and the ghost of a smile played across her lips right before he recaptured them with his own. Then he leaned back so he could sit her up, and pull her tunic over her head. She laid back, eyes scanning his face and cheeks turning pink. 

His eyes roamed over her bare body, “Mara, you’re beautiful.” She wore no breastband, her breasts puckered slightly in the cool air and goosebumps dotted her skin. 

She glanced away shyly before letting out a nervous laugh and meeting his gaze. Cullen leaned back over her resting his forehead against hers, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 

She kissed him in response, and Cullen became increasingly aware of the thin cotton of his tunic being the only fabric that separated his skin from being against hers. But this was about her first. Slowly, he dragged his fingers down her neck and across her collarbone, moving ever lower. He could feel the rush of her heartbeat under his hand. 

He cupped her breast tentatively, trying to gauge her reactions and restrain himself. She sighed against his mouth and he swallowed down the noises greedily, curious to find what other noises she would make under his hands. 

Cullen trailed kisses down her neck, moving in a slow line down her body. He could feel her chest heaving as she caught her breath. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and she moaned. He considered for a moment that they should attempt to be quiet, that they were in a camp full of people, but a very large part of him didn’t care. He had no intention of going much further than this tonight, but Maker he wanted her and he would take whatever she was willing to give him. 

Her fingers had left his body and were clutching the bedroll beneath her, knuckles white. He pressed a kiss to the underside of her breast before swirling his tongue over the peak. She nearly flew apart under him, writhing and gasping. 

“You’re too good at this,” she panted. 

In response, he kissed his way to her other breast and sucked hard enough that she had to stifle a cry. Then she swatted his head playfully.

“You’re smirking,” she accused. 

He ran a hand down her bare stomach, tantalizingly low, sweeping along the edge of her breeches, “And what if I am?”

“It’s not terribly fair, you’re driving me crazy and you seem as calm and collected as ever,” she scowled. 

“Do I?” he asked in surprise. He drew her hand up from the bedroll brushing a kiss over the knuckles before laying it against his chest so that she could feel the roaring of his heart under his tunic. She looked at him in surprise. 

“Would it make you feel better to know that I’m holding onto that calm by a small thread?” he murmured against her lips. 

“A bit,” she managed as he kissed down her neck his fingers tracing patterns into her skin. 

Her fingers scraped gently down his chest, moving lower and lower until they rested on the lacing of his breeches and just a little higher than he wanted them. 

She pulled back so she could look at him, “Is this okay?”

He wanted to shout yes, but somehow refrained and offered a nod in reply. She cupped his length first, gently, tentatively and not offering near enough friction. He rutted into her hand like some teenager, eager, desperate for more of her touch. Their kiss turned urgent as she tugged at the lacing and he waited for the relief that would come when they loosened, but it kept not coming despite her work. 

He kissed her hard and moved back so he was kneeling in front of her. Her hands were still shakily trying to undo the lacing and he took them both in his, pressing kisses along the knuckles. 

“Would you like some help?” he asked with a smile. 

She blushed a deep crimson, “Was it that obvious?”

“No, I’m just impatient,” he admitted, heart pounding as he undid the knot her fingers had stumbled over. 

She rallied, like he knew she would and chuckled, “By all means then.”

He wrenched his breeches and small clothes down in one smooth movement, his erection sprang free and granted him momentary relief. 

Mara’s eyes were soft and brimming with affection as she looked at him, “Oh Cullen.” She pulled him down for a kiss, more urgent and enthusiastic than before. Cullen wasn’t sure what he most risked catching fire from, her touch or lack of it. Her lithe fingers traced the lines of his chest through his tunic. Cullen wished he would have taken it off, so her fingers were on his bare skin, but he didn’t want to risk drawing out the torture of her slow movements any longer. 

When she finally grasped him, he yelped in surprise, scrambling away from her involuntarily. Mara stared at him, concern etched over every line of her face in the low light, clearly wondering what she’d done wrong. 

“Maker your hands are freezing,” he managed, catching his breath and trying to pull his breeches back up in a dignified manner to conceal his rapidly shrinking length. 

He watched the realization dawn on her as to what had just transpired when Sera’s voice called, “If any part of her is cold, you’re doing it wrong!”

Mara’s hands shot up to cover her mouth and mirth danced in her eyes, but she seemed like she was trying very desperately not to find the entire situation funny. He saved her from feeling too bad, his own laughter ringing through the tent. 

Beyond the embarrassment of what had just happened, he had to admit it was a little funny. He moved back to the bedroll, lying down beside her while her body shook with laughter. 

“Serves you right, trying to get all,” Sera made kissing and a few other lewd noises, “while we’re all in earshot. Your tower might not have had a roof, but at least it had doors.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry about the absence, I went on vacation for a week and took a week off of updating as well. Please don't throw anything at me over the ending of this chapter.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group arrives in Denerim to learn things are more complicated than they originally believed.

Mara hadn’t seen a lot of cities in her time, and Denerim was unlike anything she had ever seen. Her first thought was that it looked crowded, like the buildings didn’t have enough space to be. They leaned against one another, lined jagged alleyways like they were being pushed up too close to one another, and were seemingly built on top of each other. Off in the distance Fort Drakon and the royal palace loomed like dark monoliths over the city, made darker by the smog that hung heavy in the air over the entire city. It was the dirtiest place she had ever seen, and she’d been on the edges of battlefields that ran red with blood. The streets looked as if they had to accommodate the living of too many people for too long. Most streets within the city were simply dirt and sewage ran through the streets. Save the main road into the heart of the city and streets in the wealthiest areas, the city was a place of decomposing humanity and Mara felt it. How did people live like this? 

Sera led the way, her horse out in front and scanning the area in front of her with trained eyes. Mara wasn’t sure what it was she was looking for as she led them into what had to be the poorest district in the city. Homeless lined the alleys and walkways, nearly blending into the walls, their clothing and skin as dirty as their surroundings. Mostly it made her sad. That people lived that way, but beyond that, that no one did anything about it. She knew that what she saw must have been such a small percentage of the true numbers and her heart broke further.

Mara didn’t grow up with much, the nomadic life of her clan didn’t allow for it, but she’d never wanted for much. Surely that was better than this? So many of them had a resigned look about them, as if they’d accepted this as their lot in life. That she supposed was the worst part of it all. 

Sera seemed to know her way through the labyrinthine streets that Mara was sure she’d get lost in trying to find her way out. They reached a square of some sort, a tree standing in the middle, like it had been there for centuries and the city had just sprung up around it. A few merchants sold goods from under ripped canvas and small children wandered the area, laughing and playing despite their surroundings. More than a few eyes watched their group from doorways and windows.

Sera dismounted and Mara followed suit, along with the rest of their group. Sera walked nonchalantly up to the tree and tied a red ribbon along a branch. 

Cullen had been tense since they’d entered the city, she could see the way his shoulders had stiffened. It was harder to tell in his armor, but still there. He scanned the crowds like he was watching for any and every threat. Cullen placed his hand gently on the small of Mara’s back and whispered in her ear, “Stay close.” He looked around with the cool collectedness of a battlefield strategist, but there was a hint of suspicion there too. 

Sera must have sensed what he’d said, “Worry about yourself, of anyone she fits in here best. The alienage is just a few streets away.”

“We’re not actually in any danger here, are we?” Cassandra asked, looking a little disdainfully at her surroundings. 

Sera crossed her arms, “Just keep a good hold on your purse strings and don’t wave your nobility around and you should be fine. Might want to wipe that snobbish look off your face though, they’re just people.”

Dagna giggled next to Sera and Cassandra made a disgusted noise. A group of children approached them, clothes mismatched, ill-fitting and dirty. They were all skinnier than they should have been, and Mara wondered when the last time they had a meal that filled them was. Mara found herself glad that Denerim was a coastal town, it was much warmer here than the rest of Ferelden this time of year. At least no one had any real danger of freezing to death on the streets. 

One of the boys approached Sera, “Can you spare a coin, miss?”

“What color are the King’s bootlaces?” Sera asked. Mara was confused at the question, immediately wondered if it was some sort of code.

“No idea, but I hear his knickers are blue,” the boy responded. 

Sera discreetly slipped the boy a silver coin and quietly said, “Three streets over.”

The boy tipped his hat, “Thank you for your kindness.”

The group of children ran off in different directions and it seemed as though very few people were paying them any mind now. 

Sera glanced around, “Dagna, Cassandra, can you stay with the horses? Mara and Cullen, come with me.”

“Of course,” Cassandra gave her a slight nod. 

Sera immediately took off and Mara and Cullen trailed after her. She walked the streets expertly, clearly knowing her way around. She seemed just as at ease here as she did anywhere else. She led them away from the square through uneven streets to an empty alleyway. 

“Give them a minute,” Sera said glancing around, clearly checking to see if they’d been followed. There were no windows or doors in the alleyway, just a span of dark wall and darker dirt underfoot. 

The boy in the hat appeared, “You’re her aren’t you? Red Jenny?”

What was a Red Jenny? Were Sera’s contacts within the city kids? Mara doubted this would bode well. 

Sera nodded, “One of them. You got a name?” 

“My friends call me Jack,” he replied. 

Sera nodded, “Did you get the message from Jader?”

Jack nodded, “Been keeping an eye out. I have some info, for a price.”

Cullen exchanged a look with Mara, he was on the same page as her, just as surprised at the identity of Sera’s contacts as she was. 

Sera smiled like she was proud, “That’s the way.” She produced a small bag of coin and tossed it his way. 

“More your way if your info is good,” she promised. 

“There have been disappearances,” the boy explained as he counted the coins in the small bag, “Mostly homeless, not very young and not very old. Just one morning they’re gone.”

“Could they be going to another part of the city or leaving?” Cullen asked. 

Jack shot Cullen an exasperated look, “There is no where else to go. Some people move from their regular places, but you see them ‘round. This is different. All of their things still there, but they’re gone.”

“No trace?” Sera asked curiously. 

“None,” the boy said grimly. 

“And the rumors, there are rumors yeah?” Sera asked. 

The boy seemed to be trying to decide if he should tell them, as if there was some danger in voicing them aloud, “They say that animals with red glowing eyes are taking them into the hills.”

Mara’s heart sank and Cullen stiffened beside her. “Red glowing eyes?” Mara asked. 

Jack wrung his hands, “They’re just rumors. Fairy stories.”

“Anyone claim to have seen this for themselves?” Cullen asked gruffly. 

Jack glanced around, looking a little worried, “Her name is Vari, but you’ll have a hard time getting to her. She lives in the alienage.”

Sera’s eyes narrowed, “If she lives in the alienage how does she know about this?”

“They keep people out not in,” Jack said as if that explained it. 

“Off with you, I’ll be in touch before I leave the city,” Sera replied. 

He gave them all a nod, “Good luck.”

Sera crossed her arms, “Well Mara, looks like you and I get to go to the alienage. Fun.”

“Your contacts within the city are kids?” Cullen asked, rounding on Sera. 

“Some,” Sera shrugged, “You got a problem with it?”

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, “Can we really trust their information?” 

Sera scowled, “Kids see a lot more than they get credit for. They pay attention to things others don’t. So yeah, sometimes I get information from them because they know things. Maybe the information is good, maybe it isn’t. But whether it came from a kid or an adult means nothing.”

Mara stepped between the two of them, “I think all Cullen is trying to say is that it seems a little unorthodox.” She threw Cullen a warning look, but he didn’t back down. 

“Either your trust me or you don’t. So which is it?” Sera crossed her arms, her gaze not leaving Cullen. 

Sera’s words had a deflating effect and Cullen sighed, “Lead on, Sera.”

They wound their way back through the streets to Cassandra and Dagna. Mara could tell Sera was still annoyed with Cullen by the way she needled at him the entire way back. Cullen stayed patient, even when Sera told them to head to the market district and wait for the two of them there. Cullen gave Mara’s hand a quick squeeze before leading Sterling and Lyddie out of the square. 

Sera sighed, “Come on. The alienage is going to be picky enough as is about letting us in. We need to get going.”

“Why are they so picky about who gets in?” Mara asked, falling into step beside Sera. 

“‘Cause they’re shite, this whole place is stupid,” Sera shook her head. 

“Why do you say that?” Mara asked, trying to understand what about this place had Sera so upset. 

“It’s just those kids, you know? They’re orphans most of them, but they can earn a little money being Friends. Keeps them fed, clothes on their back. While some noble on the other end of town throws an entire meal away because it didn’t taste just right. It’s not fair,” Sera said. 

“No it’s not.” 

“Kirkwall’s worse,” Sera said grimly. 

Mara wasn’t sure what to say to that, but she wondered if Sera’s concern for the kids meant she had once been one of them. 

They turned a corner a wall emerged in front of them. It was as high as most buildings in this part of the city and several elven guards stood at the entrance. Mara found herself subconsciously rubbing at the vallaslin on her arm, that even though it was fully covered by her clothing that they could somehow see it on her, know she didn’t belong. There was little love between alienage elves and the Dalish. She remembered how her clan had spoken of city elves with such disdain, like they had somehow abandoned their culture. Yet every city elf she’d ever met felt the same way about the Dalish. Mara felt out of place. It was a feeling should should have been more accustomed to by now, and yet her skin felt too small as she let Sera speak to the guards. 

They were admitted with very few questions and by no virtue of their own, just that they were elves. Sera seemed annoyed at that fact, but didn’t say much. 

The alienage was worse. So much worse. Even the poorest district didn’t have the same smell of disease and death hanging in the air. The houses were worse too, if they could even be called that, they were more like glorified shacks. Everything felt sick and Mara wanted nothing more than to fix it all. But they weren’t there for that, they were there for Vari. 

They reached the center of the alienage, where the Vhenadahl tree stood, a huge gnarled oak that looked like it had endured just as much hardship as the people and buildings around it. One side of the tree was decorated with a rich red tapestry and candles all around it. She stood, locked on the spot while Sera spoke to people milling about for help finding Vari. But Mara couldn’t stop looking around at everything. How different her life might have been if she’d been born here instead of within a clan. They weren’t so different, city elves and Dalish, she realized as she saw elves pass reverently by the Vhenadahl. 

“It’s stupid, the way they live,” Sera said over her shoulder. Mara wondered what Sera saw as she looked at the surroundings.

“What is?” Mara asked. 

“All the elves living here, as if this is somehow better than outside the wall. They pray to their tree thingy and convince themselves this the best way to be,” Sera shook her head. 

“You disagree?”

“They’re just wrong, they live like this and blame other people for it, but what are they doing? How are they fixing it? Everyone suffers,” Sera replied tersely. “Come on. I know where to find Vari.” 

Mara noticed that Sera seemed ill at ease here, her shoulders were tense and her words more clipped than usual. It was quieter here than in other parts of the city, their footsteps were muffled in the dirt as the wind made the wooden buildings sway around them. 

Sera stopped in front of a particularly rundown shack, “I think this is it.”

“Do we knock?” Mara asked, staring at the weathered wood. 

“Not really a door,” Sera murmured. “Ay. Vari live here?”

A slim young woman with distrustful eyes poked her head out of a doorway within the shack. Both sides of her head were shaved close, the top of her head was graced with wavy auburn hair. She was rail thin, cheeks gaunt. 

“Who’s asking?” the woman asked, eyes narrowed. 

Sera cooly replied, “A friend of Red Jenny sent me.”

The woman looked unimpressed, “Ain’t no friend of mine.”

Mara saw Sera tense a little at the bristle and decided to try another tactic, “Heard you saw something with glowing red eyes.”

The woman’s eyes widened and she looked around as if to make sure no one had overheard before she hissed, “You trying to get yourselves killed?”

“You Vari or not?” Sera asked impatiently. 

Vari nodded, cast another glance around and ushered them inside, if you could call it that. There was no furniture within the room, there was a ripped bedroll in one corner and a doorway beyond that was mostly covered by a ripped sheet. Vari wrapped her sweater tighter around her body, Mara noticed the elbows and bottom of the sleeves were riddled with holes.

“What do you want?” Vari demanded. 

Mara sighed, “We just have a few questions.”

Vari looked over them both, as if deciding something. “Nothing’s free ‘round here.”

Mara glanced towards Sera who gave her a slight nod, she pulled a small coin purse out of her pocket and tossed it towards Vari. 

“Now we can talk?” Mara asked. 

Vari quickly took stock of the money she’d been handed and then nodded. Mara noticed that she looked more distressed than she’d originally noticed. Vari played with the sleeve of her sweater, “Look it’s bad luck to talk about it.”

“Why?” Mara asked. 

Vari looked away, “Bad things happen when you do. No one believed me at first, but then the disappearances keep happening.”

“Here in the alienage as well?” Mara asked. 

“Yes. It seems like anytime anyone mentions it, another person goes missing.”

“You said no one believed you?” Mara pressed. 

Vari looked at Mara earnestly as if she finally felt she had finally found someone to listen, she seemed to abandon her inhibitions, “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw.”

Sera crossed her arms, throwing Mara a disbelieving look, “Alright, what did you see.”

“Sometimes they look like men, normal besides the red eyes. Other times they are huge, bigger than any creature I’ve ever seen.”

Mara’s gaze met Sera’s, this sounded like exactly what they feared. 

“Are there any patterns to the disappearances?” Mara asked. 

Vari shook her head. 

“Has this been reported?” Mara asked. 

Vari wouldn’t meet her gaze and Sera laughed out loud, “Reported? Who’d they report it to?”

“The Denerim Guard perhaps?”

Vari’s eyes were tired, “They don’t care about us. Homeless and elves are the only ones disappearing. No one thinks twice about it.”

Mara wanted to go on about how wrong that was, anger seething under her skin. She clenched her fingers to focus and calm her magic. It would do her no good, Sera and Vari knew this far better than she did.  

“Where in the hills did you see them?” Mara asked instead. 

“There’s a hole in the gate on the west side of the city. Head straight to the hills there, I haven’t been in weeks, but that’s where I’ve seen them,” Vari said. 

“Thank you,” Mara said, “I think that answers all our questions.”

Sera nodded and they left the shack. Once they were out of earshot Sera muttered, “Let’s get out of this place and never come back.”

Mara was a little surprised how much she agreed. 

***

Armed with the information they’d obtained they proceeded to the market district. The area was almost pleasant, if you could forget the squalor that existed just blocks away. This at least felt more familiar to Mara. Merchants with their wares and stalls lined the large square. Cullen looked particularly relieved when she and Sera rejoined the group. Cassandra, Dagna and Cullen had a lot of questions, but they couldn’t discuss it there in the open. They needed a place to plan where they couldn’t be overheard, and so they agreed to go to another tavern just a few blocks from the main marketplace called Andraste’s Hearth. 

It seemed that the further they got into the city, the more places clamored for some bit of Andraste to cling to. Since Denerim was her birthplace, Mara supposed it made sense but the effect was lost on her. She didn’t care if she stayed at an inn that claimed some sort of fame in the area. It was just another way the city was dishonest. 

The stableboys at Andraste’s Hearth took their horses and an elderly couple led them to their rooms while excitedly telling them about the closest landmarks and best places to go. They were there under false names and the guise of tourism, it wasn’t the most far fetched story, but traveling all together in their little band was likely to get them noticed. 

The inn was nice, clean and cheery. There were very few decorations, but it hardly needed them. The interior had been carefully and lovingly carved. Each pillar, banister and door was so intricately cut, Mara ran a hand over the carving, marvelling at it as they walked up the stairs. Two of the three rooms they rented were adjoined, the other across the hall. They met in the largest of the three, doors locked behind them. 

“We need a plan,” Sera whispered, making sure no one was outside the door. 

Mara sighed, “Does anyone mind if I cast a spell on the doorway so we can’t be overheard?”

Cullen and Cassandra looked at her both a little shocked. Dagna perked up at that, “Can I watch?”

Mara hadn’t ever had much use for the spell, but it was something Keeper Deshanna had taught her. It had been used in the clans every now and again when the elders had to meet and wished to ensure they were not overheard. Aravels were not the most sound proof of structures, and thus the spell came in handy. 

Mara waved her hand over the door, whispering the spell so quietly no one would be able to hear her. The magic shimmered around her hand, white wisps attached themselves to the door and then disappeared. 

“There,” she said and turned back around, “now we can speak without any concerns.”

Cullen was anxious. It was in every line of his body, the way he gripped his sword and his posture. She could tell he wanted to get going, get things figured out, make a plan and enact it. 

“What did you learn?” Cassandra demanded, looking at both Sera and Mara. 

“It might be nothing, but people are disappearing. We have the location where there have been sightings, we’ll want to search the area,” Mara explained. 

“Right,” Sera agreed, “A little far fetched, but that Vari girl was really scared. She’s seen something.”

“Alright, so we need a new plan,” Cassandra sighed. 

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, “We have a plan. I go to the tavern and give my name then we wait.”

Cassandra crossed her arms, “The information Mara and Sera received today changes things.”

Cullen shook his head, “It changes nothing!”

Sera frowned, “Remember Sahrnia?”

“What about it?” Cullen snapped. 

Mara placed a hand on his arm, hoping to calm him. His golden eyes bore into Sera, not even glancing down at her. 

“People went to the mines there and disappeared. They disappeared because they were being used to make red lyrium,” Cassandra explained. 

Sera nodded, “See the similarities?”

“If they’re making it they’re feeding it to them too. I think our contact may have seen a behemoth,” Mara said. 

“I still do not see how this changes anything,” Cullen said angrily and began to pace. 

“Maybe it doesn’t, but this is much bigger than we thought,” Cassandra said. 

Cullen paused, eyes narrowed in determination, “Then we need to stop it now.”

Mara crossed her arms, “You’re walking right into a trap.”

“Then we control the trap. Mara and Cullen go and give the name. Go up to the room for while and give whoever it is some time to show up, then go out into the square. The rest of us will be in there. When the trap is sprung at least we can move in,” Cassandra offered. 

“I’ll get somewhere I can get a good view. See if I can get some Friends to help too,” Sera offered. 

“Mara, keep an eye out and watch his back,” Cassandra said. 

“Stagger us leaving, so that it’s not all together,” Dagna said. 

“Don’t go directly,” Sera warned, “Make sure no one can trace you back here.”

Cullen nodded and walked into the other room, the one Mara would be staying in alone if it took the trap that long to spring. They emptied their packs and repacked them, enough that they appeared to be just travelers. 

“You’re sure about this?” Mara asked as they walked toward the door to leave the room. 

Cullen still looked determined as ever, “Yes.”

He moved towards the door as if to keep going, but stopped and turned back to her. His face was softer, “I’m glad you’re here.” He kissed her briefly and whispered, “I love you.”

She smiled and laced her hand with his in response. Then they left the inn to wander Denerim. Cullen lead them around the streets, they were much more uniform in the market district, less jagged alleyways. But they still got lost once on their way back to the square. 

Outside Andraste’s Crown, Cullen gave her hand a quick squeeze before entering. He gave the name “Edmund Mettis” clearly and loudly at the counter, and Mara watched the mostly empty room for any reaction. There was none. The innkeeper handed Cullen keys and they went upstairs.  

Cullen threw his pack down and then they both began searching the room for anything out of the ordinary. The room was small and simple, a bed, a couch in the corner and a wash room connected to it. Their sweep took almost no time and they found nothing. 

“We need to wait a bit longer before heading out you think?” Mara asked. 

Cullen moved behind her, hands skimming her waist, “Yes, I think just a bit longer.”

Mara smiled, despite their situation she realized they were alone, truly alone for the first time in days. She thought with a little embarrassment to the night before in his tent. Things had been progressing, her heart felt full as she remembered the reverent way he’d touched her. Up to that point, she wasn’t sure she was ready, but last night all she’d wanted to do was touch him, see him, have all of him. The urgency of it all had caught her off guard. Then, of course, things had been immediately stopped. She made a promise to be more careful with the temperature of her hands in the future, and hopefully not have Sera within earshot, even if the whole thing had been a little funny. 

She turned in his arms, trying not to put any more distance between them than absolutely necessary. Once she faced him, he pulled her closer so that their bodies were flush. His fingers gripped her waist, and she pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss him. 

She was sure she would never get sick of the feeling of when their lips met. It didn’t matter how many times she kissed him, that glorious moment of meeting was everything she ever hoped for. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching higher to meet each greedy movement of his lips. His hands moved lower, resting on her ass. He nipped her lower lip before lifting her straight up off the ground, she thought about protesting at first, but he guided her legs to wrap around his waist and they fit together so perfectly all protests died on her lips. 

She was aware that Cullen had begun walking, but hardly cared where they were going. Their angles had changed somewhat, and she had more access to him than before. She drug fingers through his hair, reveling in the way his breath hitched as they kissed. Then suddenly the world flipped. 

Cullen had deposited them both on the bed, he leaned over her breathing hard. She was laying on her back, legs still wrapped around him as he stood on the edge of the bed. Before he could ask her if this was alright she arched up to kiss him and used her legs to pull him closer. He groaned as his hips drove into hers, and she wanted more, so much more of that.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one, Cullen had buried one hand in her hair while the other explored the curves of her body. His touch left trails of heat across her skin even though he touched her through her clothing. The armor he wore dug into her as they moved together and her fingers ran over it, trying to find how to get it off.  

When her fingers found a buckle, Cullen broke away, moving out of her reach and struggling to catch his breath, “I think we need to go.”

She’d all but forgotten what they were doing, why they were there. She’d been so lost in him, everything else had fallen away. She unhooked her legs and straightened her clothes as she sat up. “Sorry,” she murmured without out really meaning it. 

Cullen kissed her knuckles as he helped her up, “Never apologize for kissing me like that.”

She smiled, “Alright then.”

“I just wish we had the time,” Cullen smiled back. 

“After we take care of this red lyrium problem,” she promised. 

“After,” he repeated with a slight smirk.

He opened the door for her and she walked slowly as he followed her out. The people within the tavern hadn’t changed, it was still largely empty and Mara wasn’t sure what to make of that. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, Cullen to give the name and suddenly they’d be under attack? The waiting was the worst part, and now they were supposed to go out into the square and play the happy tourist couple. The whole thing made her nervous. 

They wandered into the bright and color square, so full of people you could hardly move. This was a logistical nightmare, how would they ever see someone coming at them? She suddenly found herself thankful for the armor she’d been cursing just a few minutes before, at least he’d be somewhat protected. Even so, she watched the crowd as closely as she could, trying to assess for threats. 

Her and Cullen took crowded square and took turns feigning interest in stalls so that the other could watch the crowd. Mara felt on edge, like everything was teetering on the edge of a knife, ready to fall at any moment. 

After leaving a stall that sold colorful beads and buttons they moved towards the next one across the the street, Cullen’s hand still held hers and she scanned the crowd in search of red. 

They both froze at the dark voice that came from behind them, “Hello, Cullen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the bit of the delay on this chapter. I had four days worth of professional development and then I moved last weekend, which meant things were a little chaotic on my end. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think below :)


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Mara face whoever has tracked them down in the square.

Cullen’s hold on Mara’s hand tightened at the sound of the voice, but she slipped from his grasp anyways, spinning far faster than he could and moving between him and whoever knew his name. Cullen hadn’t recognized the voice, but he could hear the lyrium in it. It made every hair on his neck prickle and his head immediately hurt. The voice, there was something off about it, an echo that reached all the way to the Fade, corrupted. 

The hooded figure that had come up behind them didn’t even flinch when Mara pulled out her daggers, in clear battle stance. The figure laughed, a tinny sound that made Cullen shudder. At some point he’d drawn his sword and was beside Mara. The people within the square gave them a wide berth, but didn’t seem too concerned over two people having weapons drawn. He wondered if this was a common occurrence or if the people just didn’t care.

“You didn’t come alone,” the hooded figure said with amusement, “My master will be most pleased.”

“Your master?” Cullen spat. His mind reeled as his fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword.

“He’ll find you,” the hooded figure said with surety, drawing his hood back. His eyes glowed red, every vein of his face seemed to be filled with the lyrium. The bruises beneath his eyes were a deep red, and Cullen wished for a moment he would put his hood back up. Cullen could see red spikes of the lyrium protruding from the man’s neck, he was already too far gone to save. They’d have to kill him, but first they needed information. 

“How’d you find us?” Mara asked. Her eyes searched the man in front of her, no doubt trying to figure out how best to take him down. 

He smiled a sick smile, “The voices in the lyrium, they speak to me. They told me that you were who I sought. Master will be pleased when I bring your bodies back to him, he’s desired this for quite some time.”

Mara moved closer to Cullen, Cullen wasn’t sure why and then suddenly she was pushing him back and away from the man. Something had changed. The man, if he could be called that now, stood stock still mouth open in a silent red scream. His hands tore at the clothing he wore, threadbare and ripped as it was, it fell away. Once his fingers had stopped scraping at the clothes and hit flesh they didn’t stop, tearing past skin with sickening swipes. 

Mara pushed kept pushing him back as he watched slack-jawed. The man was growing, spinning to and fro and agonized sounds escaping his lips. Cullen had read reports of this, but had never seen it first hand, the man was turning into a behemoth. 

“Keep back, there’s nothing we can do until he’s changed fully,” Mara glanced worriedly over her shoulder. Cullen tore his eyes away from the horror in front of him and noticed chaos around the square. Now people were scared, terrified. They ran out of the square in alarm. Screams of their terror mixed with the cacophony of panic. 

“We need to get the people out of the square,” Cullen said, glancing around. 

Mara shook her head, “Terrifying red thing growing in the middle of the square, if they aren’t smart enough to get out after seeing that, they might as well stay.”

But Cullen didn’t agree, it had been his job to protect people and he wanted to do that now. Make sure no one was caught in the crossfire. 

“You should go,” he said, knowing she never would, but he had to try to get her to go to safety. 

She glared up at him, “I’m not leaving your side.”

There was no time to argue, a slew of arrows rained down on the behemoth and the ground shook as it moved around trying to swipe at them. 

Cassandra was running towards them, “It’s changing, it’s no use attacking until the process is complete!”

“That’s what Mara said,” Cullen called, meeting her. 

“I sent Dagna to try to get the rest of the people out of the square,” Cassandra explained. 

Cullen nodded, “Good.”

Something jumped from a roof behind them and all three of them turned instinctively, weapons drawn. “Hey! Just me,” Sera shook her head, but her eyes were full of fear as the watched the scene ahead. 

“Four of us, we should be able to take it, right?” Sera asked. 

“Never taken one of these down without Lorraine,” Cassandra admitted. 

“Feel loads better if we had a mage on our side, yeah?” Sera gave Mara a significant look. 

Mara’s eyes widened, “I can’t.”

“We’ll be fine,” Cullen assured them all, “Cassandra, you and I take either side, Mara you go from behind. Sera you stay here and call out what you see while firing.”

“Yes, Commander,” Sera laughed and gave him a mock salute. 

“It’s just about done,” Mara said, eyes never leaving the behemoth. Red lyrium shards had grown, covering everything that should have been the body. One hand had been transformed into little more than a claw, huge and menacing. But it was the scream of agony that came from the creature that shook Cullen to his core. That was a sound he’d hoped to never hear again, and yet in the middle of the marketplace in Denerim he was hearing it again. 

“NOW!” Cassandra yelled, tearing Cullen from his thoughts. 

He rushed forward, sword and shield in hand and battle in his blood. He should have perhaps been concerned at how quickly he was able to shift into fighting, how comfortable it felt. His sword and shield were extensions of him, he swung and ducked and dodged and blocked like it was second nature, and he gave himself over into the muscle memory of it all. Trusting his training. 

He caught glimpses of Mara out of the corner of his eye, daggers rising and falling and trying to gain some purchase against the red lyrium. She was doing little more than further annoying the behemoth. Not that he and Cassandra were faring better, they’d both gotten in several solid hits that would have killed any normal man, and still the behemoth fought on. 

This was not going well. 

Cullen raised his shield, blocking a punishing blow from the claw arm. He swung at the arm stopped by his shield. His sword hit the arm with a crack, the shock of the hit reverberating all the way up his arm. The creature roared and flung him back, he landed in a heap, sword clattering to the ground next to him. 

Sera moved up next to him, an arrow nocked, “You good Cully?”

He got to his feet quickly,  taking a mental inventory of any injuries. He was a little sore from the fall, nothing more, “I’m fine.”

“We need to change our strategy. This isn’t really working,” Sera said as she let the arrow fly. It hit right where the neck of the behemoth should been. The shot should have done more than it did, the arrow stuck out of the lyrium like most of Sera’s other shots that the behemoth hadn’t pulled out. 

“Agreed,” Cullen nodded, charging forward. 

Cassandra was still fighting to his right, “Maker take you!” She swung her sword to little avail, and Cullen realized that fighting without magic might just get them all killed. 

“Mara!” he called. 

The blonde elf didn’t stop her fighting as she called back, “Yes?”

“Magic might be helpful here,” he yelled, hoping he wasn’t asking too much of her. 

“The templar is asking me to use magic?” she asked, a teasing lilt not quite hiding the strain in her voice. 

He chuckled as he blocked a blow, “Current strategy doesn’t seem to be working.”

“You’re sure?” he heard her ask. 

Cullen ducked under the swinging arm of the creature, “Yes!”

He noticed she’d back away from the behemoth, daggers sheathed and her arms were raised. Then he bore witness to the true strength of her magic. He’d known she was powerful before, had seen evidence of that in the clearing he’d found after Gregory’s death, but that was accidental, emotional. What she worked in the marketplace was purposeful. 

The air grew colder, errant snowflakes flew through the air, and then there was ice. It shot up from the ground in razor sharp spikes, as if she was calling it up from under the ground. The spikes moved and spiralled like vines at the behemoth. The wind picked up around them and seemed to be focused around the behemoth. Frost crept up from the ground and along the behemoth’s legs in a frosty crackle as a layer of ice settled against the red. There was just enough room for Cassandra and him to move between the spikes. 

“Go now!” he heard Mara yell. 

Cullen surged forward, the sound of arrows flying behind him. The behemoth roared, but didn’t move as he and Cassandra attacked the now brittle joints in its legs. His sword bore down hard, and delving deep into the lyrium, a few more strikes as the frost magic coursed around him and the the leg fell away. The behemoth screamed, a dark screeching sound and began to move anew towards Mara who stood behind it, undefended. 

She didn’t move as the creature broke the frost spell and began scrambling towards her, shrieking as it went. It fell, hard, shooting up dust of ice and frost. Cullen lurched forward, sword drawn. He couldn’t see Mara through the mess of white ahead of him, but he could see the behemoth face down on the ground. 

In his mind he was sure Mara had been trapped somehow by the creature. Pinned beneath it or driven out of the way hard. He was so convinced he could see her, terrified eyes as he stood there powerless, allowing her to fall. 

He wasted no time with his attacks, swinging his sword and digging into the red lyrium spikes that reminded him of nothing but pain and mistakes and lies. He swung his sword over and over and over, relishing in the sound of his blade striking. He needed to protect, to defeat this creature so he could make sure Mara was alright, and so he kept going. It wasn’t until he noticed the huge spike of ice through the behemoth’s torso that he slowed long enough to hear his name.

“CULLEN!”

He paused, gaze traveling over the still creature in front of him. “It’s dead, it’s done,” Mara said gently, moving cautiously forward. 

He turned away to look at Mara, her eyes tired and concerned, but she was whole. He dropped his sword and shield onto the ground as he surged towards her, pulling her into a crushing hug. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice screamed at him to be gentle, but she was alive. She was fine, and he wasn’t sure he could let go. 

“Hey, we’re okay. We’re all okay. It’s over,” Mara said quietly. 

But it wasn’t, it was just beginning and that made Cullen inexorably tired. As the adrenaline slowly left his system he was aware of his head pounding, of a pain coming from his leg. They weren’t bad, he’d had much worse, but it made him want to sit all the same. 

He released Mara, who bent to pick up his shield while he retrieved his sword. The marketplace was a mess, most of the booths destroyed by the behemoth or Mara’s ice spells. Goods were strewn all over the place, and Cassandra stood near Sera and Dagna. Sera was quietly fussing over Dagna, inspecting her for any signs of injury. 

No one spoke for a few minutes as they took in the destruction around them and caught their breath for a moment. 

Then an entire company of men arrived, one riding ahead of them swore loudly as he entered the square, “What in the void happened here?”

No one answered, because they were all a little dumbstruck. Because the man dismounting on the other side of the square and looking at them was the King of Ferelden. He wore full armor, a sword at his hip and looked like the fierce veteran of the Fifth Blight that he was. 

Cassandra recovered first, and Cullen supposed that made sense. She was nobility afterall. “Your majesty -” 

The king paused, “Seeker Pentaghast?”

Cullen was thankful that the king remembered at least one of their group. He’d come to Skyhold after their victory at Adamant Fortress, he’d been unable to come sooner. Cullen was under the impression that he was incredibly frustrated that the confines of his office kept him from being of more use with the Grey Wardens. He hadn’t been at Skyhold long, couldn’t be far from Denerim for any extended period of time because his wife was also gone, Leliana had implied she was searching for a cure to the calling. The queen had returned early last year, and was apparently pregnant. The happy, jovial man Cullen had met and spoken with a handful of times seemed quite different from the furious king that stood before them now. 

“Yes, your majesty,” Cassandra replied. 

“What exactly is all of this?” he asked, gesturing around. 

A man behind him dismounted and moved forward, removing his helm, “Commander Rutherford!”

Cullen recognized the young man, he’d served under him at Skyhold, “Eliot.” 

Eliot smiled, and the king seemed to notice Cullen for the first time. He strode towards him hand outstretched, “Cullen, isn’t it?”

Cullen took his hand, “It is.”

The king smiled a little, “Either of you going to tell me what members of a high ranking disbanded organization are doing in my city with a giant dead….thing?”

“Behemoth, sir,” Eliot offered, “Red lyrium.”

The king’s eyes widened as he looked back at the downed creature, “Leliana wrote about these. My guard retrieved me because everyone thought there was darkspawn loose in the city. I’m not sure that this is better.”

“Perhaps we could speak somewhere more private, your majesty?” Cassandra offered, looking around. Surrounded by the king’s guard and the Denerim guard was hardly the place to be divulging sensitive information. 

“Call me Alistair, please,” Alistair insisted, “And I think that’s the best course of action. I’ll have the Guard get to work on cleaning this up.”

“Dagna can assist them, red lyrium is dangerous even when handled properly,” Cullen said and Dagna came forward. 

“Of course. Good to see you again, Dagna,” Alistair smiled all traces of his anger gone as he glanced down at the dwarf. 

“And you, sir. Give Brynn my best,” Dagna smiled excitedy before heading over to the guard, Sera followed behind her protectively. 

“I know exactly the place we can go,” Alistair offered, “But we’re going to have to be quick about it. They never let me off on my own.” Alistair glanced at the men who were listening carefully to Dagna, to make sure their eyes weren’t on him. 

They edged carefully to one of the streets leading to the square and then Alistair began walking faster, dodging between buildings to try and make sure they weren’t tailed. 

“I apologize for the bit of cloak and dagger bit we had to pull,” Alistair said, re-entering the street and satisfied that they weren’t be followed. “They’ll be upset I gave them the slip, but they never give us any space. Every time I leave the palace I feel like a coddled child, never more then a few steps away from my parents.”

“It’s quite alright,” Cassandra reassured him. 

Alistair sighed, “I shouldn’t complain, they’re just trying to keep me alive. I suppose it’d be a bit awkward for them if I was assassinated on their watch.” Alistair laughed quietly, but Cullen wasn’t sure if he should join in. Cassandra seemed at a loss for words too, so their group traveled in silence the last few streets. 

“Ah, here we are,” Alistair stopped in front of a house and knocked on the door lightly. He glanced around, looking down the street both ways. It occurred to Cullen that the whole escape had a practiced air about it, as if Alistair had been successful with this precise tactic before. 

The door opened gingerly, an old man at the door. He had grisled white hair, and stood slightly stooped. His eyes widened in surprise when he realized who had come knocking on his door. 

“Your highness, what can I do for you?” the man asked with a bow. 

“Warren, I was hoping we might borrow a room from you for a while, so we can speak privately,” Alistair asked gesturing to the group behind him. 

“Of course,” Warren said, moving aside so that they could enter. 

Their group paused in the foyer while Warren led them to the small dining room, gesturing them to sit and offering to make some tea. 

“Knew him as a boy. He used to live in Redcliffe,” Alistair explained. “Anything we say here will be kept secret.”

Cullen glanced at Mara, who sat stiffly to his left. Her eyes were on the king, but she broke away to look at him. She was still watching him with concern, and he wasn’t sure he blamed her. He looked away, trying to focus on what was happening now, in front of them. 

Cassandra started at the beginning, telling Alistair about everything. About Cullen’s clinic, about the red lyrium there and the smuggler. The king listened quietly, mouth a thin line through most of it. Once she reached the bit about what they’d discovered here in Denerim, Mara interrupted. 

“There have been disappearances, mostly homeless and people from the alienage,” she said, making sure Cassandra didn’t leave that part out. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’re acquainted,” Alistair turned his attention to Mara. 

“Mara,” she said. Warren appeared next to Alistair, with a tea tray no one was likely to touch. He set it down on the table before disappearing out of the room again. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Alistair said, drawing his gaze back to Cassandra. 

Cassandra continued, and Cullen’s mind wandered. Who was the man in the square referring to as master? Who was creating red lyrium? Why here? Why now? He had so many questions and he wanted to head straight for the hills, begin searching for answers. He thought with some embarrassment at his behavior when he thought Mara might be hurt, dead, worse. How he’d continued attacking without any regard for anything else around him. How she’d had to yell at him to bring him back to reality, to prove she was alright. Shame settled in his chest. Mara must have noticed he was drowning in his thoughts, a light hand came to rest on his thigh under the table. Her touch grounded him even as he felt he didn’t deserve it, he reached for her anyways, twining their fingers together. 

“Well this sounds like a bit of mess,” Alistair sighed once Cassandra had finished their story. 

“It is,” Cullen admitted, and with those two words he realized he was also admitting they were in over their heads.

“Well, I’d come with you if they’d let me, but I’m already going to be reprimanded for pulling a bit of a disappearing act to come here. I can send Eliot to you with a small group of men. But I’m afraid that’s all I can do,” Alistair explained, “Both of your names are still attached to the Inquisition, and any major show of support would likely get back to Orlais. I cannot risk any more political strain with them at the moment.”

“So we’re mostly on our own?” Mara asked, eyes narrowed. She seemed angry, Cullen wasn’t sure why, but realized she’d been tense ever since Alistair had shown up. 

“Afraid so,” Alistair replied.

Cullen was still grateful for the bit of help they were receiving, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, I only wish I could offer more aid. Thank you for taking down that whatever that thing was, even if you did destroy my marketplace in the process,” Alistair laughed, “At least it wasn’t the palace. Then you would have had to deal with Brynn.” Alistair stood, pulling his gloves back on. 

Mara’s hand tightened on his, Cullen looked at her, recognizing banked anger in the emerald depths. He’d been on the receiving end of her anger enough times to know when she was upset about something and about to have it out. “When was the last time you left your palace to go into the poor district or the alienage?” she asked in an accusing tone. 

Alistair paused, “Why do you ask?”

“Are you aware of the conditions? The squalor that your people live in while you sit comfortably in your palace. People are starving, dying in the streets, your subjects. Don’t you care?” Mara asked eyes tight as she spoke. 

“Mara!” Cassandra said with warning in her voice. Cullen gave her hand a squeeze under the table, this was probably not the best time to be having this particular conversation. 

Alistair looked at her for a moment before speaking, “You’re Dalish aren’t you?  You don’t have to answer, you’re a mage and it’s in the way you walk. Which means you probably haven’t spent a great deal of time in my city besides what you’ve seen since you arrived. My city is not perfect, and I am achingly aware of every bit of pain that exists here. You think that I revel in the opulence of my position and that I have no idea what it means to go without a meal, or have a bed to sleep in at night?”

Mara was silent, never breaking his gaze.  He continued, “I am aware of my subjects, and I am doing the best that I can. Perhaps all you see when you go to the poor district is those who have little to live for. But I see all of the roofs we spent the summer fixing so that they’d stay warmer now, I see the families who receive food stores every fortnight from the palace, and when I go to the alienage I see less disease than I have in years due to the healing clinics we’ve put in place. It’s not perfect, but I’ve only had ten years on the throne, I can’t change Denerim in a day. But do not accuse me of being ignorant.”

Mara nodded, “I….”

“I think that’s quite enough,” Cassandra interrupted, she looked furious. 

Alistair turned back to Cassandra, “Where are you lodging? I’ll send Eliot to meet you there so you can continue to track whoever is creating this lyrium.”

“Andraste’s Hearth,” Cassandra answered. 

“Alright, good luck. I’ll expect a full report as soon as you’ve successfully rounded up whoever is responsible. It was good to see you again Cassandra, Cullen, and Mara,” Alistair smiled before leaving them alone in the room, sitting in silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! A quick cameo from everyone's favorite cheese loving king. I've never written Alistair before, so it was sort of fun to add him in here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for reading!


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group deals with the aftermath and preparing for what's to come differently.

When she was younger Mara had found herself in trouble a time or two. As an only child she felt that her parents were too involved. She’d kept secrets, told lies and her parents hadn’t lived long enough for her to be grown and able to find out just how little she’d fooled them. But that feeling, the churning of her stomach and the guilt, that was something she hadn’t felt since she had been reprimanded by her parents. 

The feeling made her feel fifteen again. 

She followed a step or two behind Cassandra as they wound their way through the streets of Denerim to get back to Andraste’s Hearth, she kept her eyes on the ground. Cullen had gone in the other direction, going to pick up the few things they’d left at Andraste’s Crown. There was no point in the deception any longer, or letting more rooms than necessary. 

He’d looked at her, a silent question asking her to go with him. She couldn’t bring herself to reenter the marketplace. Didn’t want to see the ice the red lyrium, the destruction. Any of it. So he’d gone alone, and she followed Cassandra silently. 

She was tired, and she felt sick over what had happened with King Alistair. She’d been so sure that she was doing something good, he seemed likeable enough surely he’d listen. And then she found out just how much she didn’t know. 

Cassandra sensed something in her silence, slowing down so that they walked side by side, “I am sorry I snapped at you.”

Mara sighed, “I’m sorry I spoke when I shouldn’t have and nearly alienated an ally.”

Cassandra shrugged, “He’s put up with far worse I am sure. He’ll probably forget all about it.”

“I just wish I could apologize,” Mara crossed her arms, holding them to her chest. 

Cassandra was thoughtful for a moment, “You could write him a letter, Eliot could deliver it.”

“Perhaps,” Mara nodded, feeling glum. “Maybe I just shouldn’t have come.”

“We’ll get you home soon enough, I promise,” Cassandra said, misreading the reason for her mood. 

Home. The word made her pause. Home. In the time they’d been away from the estate she hadn’t missed it, not with the type of homesickness that usually accompanies a journey. Because she was already home. All this time she’d been searching for a place without realizing it was a person. Home was with Cullen. 

The realization hit her hard, knocking her mentally off balance for a moment. She didn’t know if she’d ever know for sure what love was or felt like, but that realization that she had found everything she had ever searched for in him was stronger than she’d ever felt. She’d found home and family with him, and when he said he loved her it was with a certainty that would shake the earth. She loved him, she was sure of it. She loved him. 

Once she knew it, she couldn’t unknow it. She didn’t want to, this wasn’t the most convenient time to come to the realization. She wanted time with it, wanted to tell Cullen, but not when the threat of red lyrium hung heavy and dark like a cloud over them. She didn’t want it tainted in red darkness like everything else around them. 

Cullen’s reaction to the behemoth in the square had been bad enough. It was something they’d have to talk about. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but it couldn’t be good. Something had been very very wrong, and she wished she knew what. 

“Mara?” Cassandra stopped and turned to look at her, “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” Mara replied, it wasn’t a lie. She was tired, and the day wasn’t over yet. 

They were outside of the tavern by then, “Perhaps you should rest then, you’re not used to combat like this. We have a few hours before nightfall.” 

Mara ignored the slight jab, sure that Cassandra didn’t mean for it to come off quite the way she had. Mara simply nodded and began up the stairs. 

“Oh, and Mara, if you see Cullen before I do tell him to bring me his sword. I’m going to go find a blacksmith and see if I can convince them to look at our weapons before we leave. Also make sure he lets you look at his injuries,” Cassandra said. 

“I will,” Mara replied, continuing her way up the stairs and wondering if she needed to take a look at her daggers as well. 

She ran her fingers over the ornate railing as she climbed. The lacquered wood was smooth beneath her fingers. She wondered just how long it had taken to carve each and every swirl and groove. She imagined as she climbed the stairs the hours of work and care even just one span of this had taken. It was easier to think of that than about everything else. It was anchoring to remember there was more than red lyirum, that other lives existed around outside of the darkness she felt trapped in. 

Once the door shut behind her, she removed her armor. She let it slam to the floor piece by piece. She knew she should have been more careful with it, but she wasn’t sure she cared at this point. She was left in her undertunic and soft leggings, and it felt as if she had shed the day away too, stood in new skin. 

She picked up a piece of parchment and quill from her pack, scribbling down a hasty apology. She wished she had the energy for something more, but it was the sentiment that truly mattered. She folded up the parchment, setting it on the dresser before finally allowing herself to collapse on the bed. 

Mara felt tired down to her bones, a deep sort of tired that only came with magic use. It had been a while since she’d used that much magic at once. It’d been since Gregory’s death, what felt like a lifetime ago now. There was a power in using her magic that way that scared her, it felt good to use it like that. She felt powerful, and it was that precise feeling that had her stomach in knots as she laid on the bed. 

She promised herself years ago that she’d never use her magic to harm ever again, that she would make reparations for the lives she took. That she would pay whatever penance that required until she no longer felt the guilt, the heaviness of their lives against her conscience. But Cullen had asked her, and it had turned the tide. Perhaps saved lives, what if she’d kept her promises? Would they have made it out of there unscathed? 

It all made her head hurt, so she grasped the blankets around her, creating a sort of cocoon around herself and tried to forget.

The door clicked open softly and she turned to see Cullen at the door, “I’m sorry to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” she sat up. 

Concern colored his gaze as he came to the bedside sitting beside her, “Is everything alright?”

She realized slowly that her eyes were wet, tried to wipe at them, but Cullen took her hands in his. “I’m fine,” she shook her head. “Cassandra wanted to see you.”

“I ran into her on my way in. And the tears?” he asked. His fingers traced familiar patterns up her left arm, following her vallaslin. 

“I used magic,” she whispered, words bent in shame. 

Cullen pulled her to him, “You did, and quite possibly saved us all.”

“But…” her words came out strangled.

“I realize that this might sound strange coming from me, but I don’t think you need to keep punishing yourself for something you did years ago. You can stop denying that part of who you are,” Cullen held her close, fingers trailing comfortingly through her hair. 

“I think you need to forgive yourself,” he said quietly. 

She laughed through tears, “That does sound odd coming from you.”

He chuckled, “I know. But promise me you’ll try?”

She nodded pulling back to face him, “You have a limp.”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head. 

“Let me heal it,” she brought her hand up to his cheek.

He leaned into her touch, “You should conserve your mana.”

“It’ll be fine. I promise to rest after,” she smiled. 

“You’re very stubborn,” he sighed, beginning to take his armor off. 

“Pot. Kettle,” she said, gesturing between them. Repeating the phrase that had grown familiar between them since the night he used it so long ago. 

He smiled and continued to divest himself of his armor with a military efficiency that surprised her. Once he was in just his tunic and breeches he blushed slightly under her gaze. 

“For you to look at my leg I’ll have to take these off,” he gestured to his breeches. 

“Well you seemed more than eager last night,” she teased. It earned her a bark of laughter as he pulled them off without a second thought. His tunic was long enough that it fell past his smalls revealing two scarred, but strong legs. 

“Lay down,” she said, standing from her place on the bed. He left leg was swollen around the knee, probably just a strain but she wanted to make sure. 

He followed her order silently, laying back on the bed with a groan of relief. She banished all thoughts of crawling back into bed immediately, she needed to focus. 

“Cold hands,” she warned with a smile. It felt to laugh and joke considering what they faced, and yet she couldn’t help trying to coax more laughter from his lips. 

He smirked, “I’m quite prepared for them now, thank you.”

“Just checking,” she laughed despite herself. She closed her eyes as she put her hands on his knee, feeling for the cause of the swelling and the pain. It was a strain as she predicted, and she pushed a good bit of healing magic into the muscles and tendons. It was perhaps more than was strictly necessary, but she wanted him to be in perfect shape for whatever they faced that night. 

She opened her eyes meeting his watchful one, “Is there anything else?”

“A bit of a headache,” he admitted. She reached for his hand, noting that for once he hadn’t fought against her healing him.  

“Why the hand?” he asked quietly.

“Hmmm?” she asked, not opening her eyes.  

“My head hurts so you use my hand,” his words were quiet. 

“Pressure points,” she explained, massaging the webbing between his fingers. “It’s sort of like a thread my magic can follow. It’s helpful when I can’t touch right where the pain is.”

He sighed in relief as the magic worked, “I’ve never thought of it like that.”

“I should have explained it better,” she replied. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Of course,” she walked to the other side of the bed and laid down next to him, he’d pulled his breeches back on as she did, and she laid down facing him. 

He rolled to meet her, his hand resting on her cheek as he pressed a kiss to her temple. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to bring it up, but felt she had to. She’d been avoiding it until then, hiding behind humor and healing. There were no more excuses left. 

“Cullen….in the square, after the behemoth fell….what happened?” she asked softly. 

He pulled back, no longer touching her and was silent, as if trying to find the words. “I was so afraid of you getting hurt, it was like I watched it happen even though it didn’t. And I was so angry, I just...I didn’t want to stop.”

He wouldn’t look at her and Mara felt the absence of his gaze. “I’m fine, it didn’t hurt me.”

“I know, but I...I don’t know what I would do if it had,” he stared at the ceiling. “I feel as if I’m being ripped apart. I want you there tonight, you’re a good fighter and then I know where you are. So if anything happened, I would be right there, and yet I want you away from it all, safe.”

It was a conflict she knew well one she felt raging inside her as well. She wasn’t sure she was ready to admit what she’d considered doing to keep Cullen safe. She bit her lip, “I understand, but whatever this is, we face it together.”

He looked back at her, golden eyes looking resigned, “I know.” 

She leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his lips, one she felt would be reassuring, “And now we rest.”

He looked at her earnestly, “I’d very much like to hold you if that’s alright.”

She nodded. He rolled back to face her, an arm outstretched. She laid down, spine against his chest. His other arm draped across her chest, holding her to him and their legs tangled together. She felt safe like this, bodies aligned perfectly. She could feel his breathing against her ear and could have sworn she felt him kiss her shoulder. 

_ I love you _ , she wanted to say. But she didn’t want to give them those words right now, not when they still faced so much. Not when there was worry for her in his golden eyes, and not when everything around them was red. She wanted to wait, until it was over, until they were safe and alone. 

They laid there a long while in silence, and she wondered if his mouth felt as heavy as hers did with the words she didn’t say. She intertwined their fingers, as if the contact they had wasn’t enough already. He slept after a while, his breathing evened out and his fingers twitched as they held her. 

Mara didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep. Watched the shadows move across the floor with the changing light, memorizing the way he held her, the heat of his body against hers. She wanted to imprint everything about this moment in her mind, wanted to hold on to it. She reminded herself things would be fine, they’d be fine. But fear is not something easily tamed. 

He woke next to her with a start, breath coming in gasps. He seemed to realize she was there almost immediately, holding her to him tightly and burying his face in her hair. She remained still, unsure what to do. She knew from the limited encounters with his nightmares it often took a few moments before he could bear to be touched, that he needed time. She’d always hung back until he reached for her, but now that he woke with her in his arms she wasn’t sure what to do.

“Mara…” her name was a broken sob. 

She turned then, unsure if he was awake or still in the throes of the Fade, but unable to resist comforting him, “I’m here.”

His eyes were wild, not quite there, he stared at her a moment before his arms tightened around her. Her head was against his chest to hear the racing of his heart, as fingers carded through her hair as if she was the one who needed comforting. 

“Cullen…” she whispered into his chest. 

“You’re here,” his words twisted with grief. 

She pushed back just enough to look at him, “Always.”

He looked at her with tired eyes, “I just...it wasn’t real.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” The question was a common one between them, an offering. She never expected him to take it, knew that some things were easier left unsaid, unshared. But still she offered, always. 

He shook his head and pulled her back in. 

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other. She almost told him then, those three words that stuck like barbs in her skin. But she held back. After. It would be so much better after.

“We should get ready, the sun is setting. They’ll want to leave soon,” Cullen said, voice back to the normal strength she knew. 

They released each other reluctantly, each turning to their respective sides and beginning to dress. The silence was loud around them, or perhaps she just thought so. Silence had always been easy for them, companionable. That night it wasn’t. 

She pulled her gloves on last, glancing over at Cullen. He was watching her, expression unreadable. He looked tired though, almost reluctant. He crossed the room in quick strides, taking her face in his hands and kissing her fiercely. 

She kissed him back with as much fervor, with some wild hope he’d know every word she left unsaid. She was on her tiptoes, stretched as tall as she could be, when he pulled away. He rested his forehead against hers, his hands moved down to her neck and she held his wrists while she looked into his eyes. 

“What is it they say? Once more unto the breach?” he smiled slightly. 

“No one I’d rather have at my side,” she stretched to press her lips to his. 

He released her gently and walked towards the door, she picked up the letter from the dresser and followed him out. Cassandra was already out in the small yard between the stable and the tavern conversing with Eliot. Eliot had a kind face, one you didn’t expect to see from a seasoned warrior. His nearly black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, but strands had come free hanging in his face and he ran a hand up every so often in futile attempts to contain them. 

Eliot saluted Cullen when he noticed him, “Commander.”

Cullen’s person had shifted since they left their room, he was every bit the Commander she’d heard about. He walked tall, every step sure. The natural leadership she’d seen at the estate taken to another level here. 

“That’s not really my title any more,” Cullen said as he greeted Eliot. 

“The Inquisition may be no more, but you still have all of our respect. Also old habit, sir,” Eliot smiled. 

“I’d heard that you’d moved into a good position here in Denerim, I didn’t expect it to be part of the King’s Guard,” Cullen said, impressed. 

Eliot shook his head, “A personal reference from the Divine herself goes a long way apparently.”

“Your skills probably had something to do with it as well,” Cassandra said kindly. 

“Thank you, Seeker. Let me introduce you to the men,” Eliot led Cullen to the small group of five men who stood away from them, speaking amongst themselves. Cassandra didn’t follow, coming to stand closer to Mara. 

“He seems to have shaken off everything that happened earlier,” Cassandra said, arms crossed as she watched the group. 

“Indeed,” Mara replied, “we don’t have much of a choice though, have to soldier on.”

Cassandra sighed, “We do. You wrote the letter?”

Mara glanced down to the letter in her hand, “I did.”

“Eliot is so happy to help. He will gladly take it I’m sure,” Cassandra said. 

Mara nodded, “That’s good. Where are Sera and Dagna?”

Cassandra made a noise of disgust, “I have no idea, and that concerns me.”

“Should we look for them?” Mara asked. 

“I will, you can stay here,” Cassandra said before stalking off back to the tavern. 

It left Mara alone in the yard, she stood there for a moment, unsure whether to go join Cullen with Eliot’s men. She walked towards their group slowly, feeling a little out of place, but knowing it wouldn’t be any better to stand alone apart from the group. 

Eliot stood a bit to the side while Cullen talked to the other men. They were all in plain armor, having forgone the official uniforms from earlier in the day. Eliot seemed familiar to Mara and she wondered if they’d somehow met before. 

Eliot noticed her standing on the fringes of the group awkwardly, “Hello.” He extended his hand to her and offered a smile. 

She took it, “Hi.”

“You seem incredibly familiar. What’s your name? Did you also serve with the Inquisition?” he asked crossing his arms. 

“Mara, and I did. I was sort of all over the place. I was a healer,” she explained. 

Eliot smiled, “A healer, thank the Maker! I feel much better now I know you’ll be there.”

“Let’s do our best to avoid needing healing though,” Mara replied. 

“Of course!” Eliot nodded, “Were you at Adamant?”

“I was,” Mara said. 

“Maybe that’s where I remember you from, I was injured and in the healing tents,” Eliot explained. 

Mara thought for a moment trying to place his face, “There were so many injured, it’s a bit of a blur.”

“I very nearly lost my arm. I have a wicked scar to show for it,” Eliot laughed. 

Then, it hit her, “Is it all the way from your shoulder down to your elbow?”

“Yes!” Eliot said. 

Mara shook her head, what a weird sort of coincidence, “I was the one who saw to you when you were brought in. I didn’t see you after you were healed, I assumed you were alright.”

“That’s because this idiot snuck out of the tents and ran right back into the fray,” Cullen rolled his eyes. 

Mara crossed her arms, “You know that’s the sort of idiocy that gets people killed.” Men sneaking out of the healing tents was not an uncommon occurrence, but too often the men arrived back with worse injuries. At least she knew what happened to those men, it was the ones who didn’t come back that kept her up. 

“Or promoted,” Eliot laughed. 

“You promoted him after that?” Mara looked at Cullen incredulously.

“He was a good soldier. I had no idea he was disobeying  _ your _ orders,” Cullen teased. 

“But you knew he was disobeying  _ someone’s _ orders,” she raised an eyebrow. 

“How was I supposed to know he hadn’t been cleared to return,” Cullen smirked before turning back to the group. She rolled her eyes before looking back to Eliot. 

“Eliot, I have a quick favor to ask of you,” she said quietly. 

Eliot nodded, “Anything.”

“Could you just deliver this to the King. I’m afraid I was a little rude today,” she said, holding out the letter. 

Eliot took it, “Of course. I’d be happy to.” If Eliot had any questions about why he was delivering the letter they were interrupted by Sera’s cackling. 

Cassandra strode into the yard, face red and looking positively furious. Sera followed behind her laughing while Dagna giggled. 

“What’s going on here?” Cullen asked after a moment, it was almost as if he was wrestling with himself as to whether he really wanted an explanation. 

“Nothing,” Cassandra said with finality. 

Sera guffawed, “Nothing is right. I was just borrowing a book or two from the Lady Seeker and wow do they have some interesting bits -”

Cassandra rounded on Sera, “Stop.”

Sera giggled in response. 

Cullen’s voice was full of amusement, “One of Varric’s?”

At Cullen’s comment Cassandra stomped out of the yard and into the streets with a gruff, “Let’s go!”

Mara was confused by the whole exchange. 

“Well, we better catch up before she gets too far, she doesn’t know where we’re going,” Cullen chuckled before leading the group out of the yard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a quick interlude before things get real. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, thank you so much for reading and being a part of this journey. I'm so excited to hear from you and for what's coming up next!


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group heads to the hills above Denerim to search for the source of the red lyrium.

Cullen gripped the pommel of his sword tightly. Too tightly. His fingers protested against the grip. He forced himself to relax, hoping the others wouldn’t notice the tension he carried. He had slid into his role as Commander, a mask that was far easier than it should have been to put on. It felt dishonest, he had no title any longer and yet Eliot and his men were following him anyways. He felt like he was hiding, and in a way he was. He’d put his armor on, each piece more comforting than the last as he tried to banish the thoughts the Fade had decided to torment him with. 

Everything had been red, including the blood that ran from her body. Her eyes were wide open with terror as he’d bent over her, praying she was still alive. But one touch was all he needed to know she was gone. And he’d felt unmistakably lost, heart so full of grief. She was gone. 

It’d felt so real, the feel of her, her smell. It had all been right, but also wrong. The Fade made mistakes. Her eye color was off and the blue vallaslin that snaked up her arm, the patterns he’d traced so many time with his fingertips weren’t correct. And then he’d woken up to find her safe and warm and alive in his arms. He’d grasped at her, holding her tightly while the truth of that washed over him. 

There had been a quiet sort of tension between them as they’d prepared to leave, he realized there were just as many words going unsaid on her part as his. He hadn’t known what to say, what else could be said. He couldn’t bear telling her he loved her right then and having it go unreciprocated or worse that she might say it back. They were both shaken from the day and he didn’t want any declarations out of fear. He’d told her he would wait as long as she needed, forever perhaps, knew the words were not easy ones to say. So he’d kissed her and prayed to the Maker she knew just how much she meant to him. 

Then he prayed his dream hadn’t been a portent for what was to come. 

Darkness had fallen around them, and their small group moved quietly through the hills above the city. Stretched out below them Denerim looked so much more peaceful in the darkness, the soft glow of light from the windows seemed to glimmer below them. Lights blinked out as the residents retired to bed.

He glanced at Mara, her eyes were trained ahead, scanning the trees ahead of them. Her body was tense, poised to snap at anything. He wanted to take her hand, comfort her. He wanted her nearer to him, her presence always calmed him. It was an indulgence they had no time for. He was sure the comfort was more for his benefit than hers anyways. 

Their group moved in silence. Eliot had led the way to the gate, and from there Cullen and Cassandra had taken the lead. Cassandra was far more experienced in tracking, so Cullen had fallen behind her. The dark, silent pines above them seemed to be lulling them into a sense of security, having not come across anything so far. It made Cullen anxious and he twisted his hand around the pommel of his sword absently. 

Then suddenly out of the darkness, red. It was as big as a horse, moving on all fours towards them. A shrill growl broke the silence of the night and every single one of them moved into defensive positions, he ran out in front to meet whatever it was that thundered through the trees. Sera fired a lit arrow at the beast, the light moved in a cascading arc until it landed on the grotesque shape of whatever had come to attack them. 

The red eyes glowed and red lyrium shards stood up along its spine. The closer it came the more it was revealed that it was more red lyrium than anything else. It had been a mabari at some point, Cullen was sure of that. Twisted and tainted by red lyrium, it was little more than a bloodthirsty beast. What sort of person took an innocent creature and forced them to become this?

He had little time to think about it, the beast lunged for him, fangs bared. Along the edges of the treeline around them more figures appeared, terrible cries proceeding them as they bore down on the group. 

The beast hit him like a brick wall, knocking him off his feet and onto his back. His sword landed with a thud on the soft ground somewhere to his right in the darkness as he struggled against the animal lunging for his neck. Its teeth were razor sharp and menacing, its hot breath rolled over him. The creature smelled like heat and something rotten, and his stomach flipped uncomfortably as he fought with both hands to keep the fangs digging into his skin.  

“Cullen!” Cassandra yelled as she came to his aid. Her movement distracted the beast long enough for Cullen to plunge a dagger from his belt into its side. The creature yelped and jumped off of him. 

He scrambled to retrieve his sword and get his feet. They’d been ambushed, red lyrium warriors poured into the clearing. He turned his attention back to the red lyrium beast, reigning in his focus to deal with the problem at hand. He could worry about the other attackers in a moment, first he had to deal with the red lyrium beast. Cassandra tried to come at its flank, but the animal was faster, turning on her and jumping at her, claws scratching at her shield. The frantic pawing filled the area with a metallic screech, and Cullen rushed forward. 

He took advantage of the creature’s preoccupation, bringing his sword down against its spine, hard. The beast yelped an agonized scream as it rolled away from them. Cassandra roared forward, bashing her shield against the creature’s head and sending the creature back towards him. He dealt the deathblow, piercing his sword through the creature, a mercy if there ever was one. What a waste of life. 

He took in the scene around him, arrows whizzed through the air, weapons clanged against each other, and the air smelled of battle and sang of red lyrium. Mara was facing off against an attacker, daggers drawn but fine. He took only a few seconds before he moved strategically into the fray, helping one of Eliot’s men who looked most overwhelmed. 

Cullen realized as he fought an attacker that more arrows were flying in the clearing than were coming from Sera. One of Eliot’s men fell and Cullen swallowed down panic. 

“Sera! An archer in the trees!” Cullen called as he swung his sword. 

“On it!” Sera called back. 

Cullen couldn’t devote any more attention to it than that, blocking a blow from his attackers sword and taking a swing of his own. None of their opponents were well trained, the amateur nature clear in their form, footwork and stances. Their only advantage was the red lyrium running through their veins, making them stronger and more resilient. It didn’t seem to matter that they weren’t very skilled, the fighting was still fierce. Cullen’s attacker fell heavily to the ground, and he moved on quickly to assist Mara. 

Her attacker kept using his size to his advantage, kicking her side as she twisted to avoid his blade. Cullen bashed his shield into the man, sending him staggered back against the trunk of a tree. Mara was already hurtling forward, anger evident as she renewed her assault. The air chilled as her ice magic froze the man in place and she thrust her daggers into his chest. Her attacker was dead by the time Cullen reached him. 

“You alright?” he asked quickly avoiding the lines of frost on the ground that spread from her spell. 

“Fine,” she spat as she surged towards the attacker charging at one of Eliot’s men. 

Cullen dispatched two more of their opponents before the clearing fell quiet. It seemed like it was over almost as quickly as it began. Red lyrium filled bodies littered the ground, twenty six including the mabari. They were lucky only one of their group was down. Mara had been at his side as soon as she noticed, pulling an arrow from his shoulder. She healed him quickly, and beyond being somewhat unsteady on his feet, seemed mostly alright. 

“What was that?” Sera asked, looking towards the downed mabari. 

“A mabari at some point,” Cassandra answered in a disgusted tone. 

“Why would anyone do that?” Sera looked horrified. 

“Where there’s one there’s probably more,” Mara said grimly. 

Cullen hoped she was wrong, “We need to keep moving.”

“Agreed,” Eliot nodded. 

Cassandra led them the direction that their attackers had come from. Cullen was even more alert as they moved through the trees, they’d been caught off guard earlier and he wouldn’t have it happen again. 

As the group moved quietly through the darkness, Cullen found himself nearly jumping at every single branch crunched underfoot, every sound of movement around them. He grit his teeth and tried to ground himself, but the paranoia wouldn’t leave him.  

If his carefully crafted facade was cracking Cassandra didn’t make any mention of it, though she glanced back at him often. In the field he was the Commander. He couldn’t afford to be afraid or unsure, he’d schooled his expressions so as to never seem weak. He had to be the leader, had to always seem in control no matter how out of control he felt, but he felt terribly out of control. 

Light came into focus through the breaks in the trees and Cassandra signalled the group to stop. He crouched next to her while he saw what she was seeing. There was a cave, mouth gaping open and leading into darkness while a fire burned near the entrance. It felt too easy, the hair on Cullen’s neck stood on end. 

“I’ll go,” Mara said quietly to his side. His initial reaction was to say no, instead he glanced questioningly at Cassandra who offered a quick nod. 

“Be careful,” he said as Mara crept forward, she turned back and flashed a quick smile that clearly said ‘always am’ even though the words went unspoken. She moved with graceful precision through the trees without making a sound. The moonlight filtered through the trees around her and Cullen held his breath as she went, trying not to think about worse case scenarios. 

She was a more than capable warrior, he knew that. He remembered how she’d bested him in what felt like a lifetime ago. But he also knew that no matter how good of a warrior one was, that one slip or misstep could mean death. 

Mara froze suddenly and Cullen did too. She was still several feet from the cave, watching something intently. Cullen scanned the area around her for what made her stop. Her movements were calculated and slow as she pulled a dagger from her side and from a crouched position she threw it forward, and the night exploded around them in flame and ice. 

A fireball erupted, burned bright and hot a split second before it was encased in ice. The ground shook from the explosion and the air was full of the sound of fracturing ice. The ice had chased the fire, then shattered around it sending shards crashing into the mountainside and flying through the trees their group hid in. 

He was sure the ice was Mara’s doing, a counteraction to the flame that had engulfed the area. There was a sudden wave of heat and then there was the bite of icy cold. Snowflakes turned to rain around him in wet rivulets. The smell of smoke filled the area, and the air was so thick with smoke and steam he couldn’t see anything ahead of him. He rushed forward without another thought, he needed to get to her, now. 

Cassandra stopped him before he got more than a few steps forward, holding him back. He struggled against her, but it was futile, she held him fast. 

“Cullen! Wait!” Cassandra struggled for words as he tried to move forward, “You don’t know what’s down there!”

“She is!” he growled at her. 

Cassandra scowled, “So you’d just run straight into whatever is down there?”

“I’m going,” Sera called and so he stopped. Cassandra let go of him while he watched Sera disappear into the darkness ahead of them. 

He felt helpless, quietly hated Cassandra for holding him back. Knew she was doing the right thing, he would have made the same call if he wasn’t half out of his mind with worry. He would have sent someone who could be emotionally detached, who could move safely into the fray rather than rushing in without assessing any of the dangers. So he grudgingly waited. 

“Whoa,” Sera called back to them, “You need to see this.”

Cassandra gave him a brief nod and he sprang forward. The smoke and steam were dissipating slowly, the further forward he went the more ice he saw. It wasn’t the normal beautifully dangerous shards he’d seen Mara conjure before, these were disfigured, half melted masses of ice. And in the middle of it all, Sera stood next to Mara who looked a little singed but otherwise fine. He released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and sighed. How many times in one day could he be concerned for her life? Mara gave him an apologetic look. 

“Cool looking, yeah?” Sera smiled and looked at Mara proudly. 

“What happened?” Cassandra asked before Cullen could find his words. 

Mara was still breathing heavily when she spoke, “I could sense there was magic here, I just thought it was some sort of shield. I didn’t think it was a fire mine, it didn’t feel like fire at all.”

“Red lyrium,” Dagna said seriously, “It’s all over the area. It changes magic.”

“It would account for a few things,” Cassandra flashed him a look. 

Like his paranoia, but thankfully she didn’t say that. He knew she knew it though. 

He pulled Mara into a quick hug, “You alright?”

“I’ve had worse,” she said quietly and he released her.  

“Eliot, leave two of your men here. The rest of us will enter the cave,” Cullen commanded. 

“Yes, ser,” Eliot said while he pulled his men to the side. 

“Do you want to stay here?” he asked Mara in a whisper, knowing the answer. 

She glared at him and shook her head, so he led them forward. After the explosion of the fire mine, they were all on the defense, listening for magic. Mara didn’t say it, but he suspected she was more hurt than she was telling him. She moved gingerly, favoring her right leg. He trusted she wouldn’t be continuing if she didn’t think she could, so he swallowed his fear and kept moving. 

The cave was dark, and Cullen saw monsters in every shadow. He knew they weren’t there, knew it was the proximity to the red lyrium that was playing tricks in his mind, but he scanned the area head of them regardless. It felt like their group was moving slowly into the belly of the beast, winding through dark cavernous rooms that seemed never ending. They hadn’t even lit a torch, not wanting to signal their arrival to whatever waited beyond, and so the darkness seemed to stretch on past them forever. 

He fought for peace in the darkness, offering up a prayer from the Canticle of Trials so oft repeated in his mind:

_ I cannot see the path. Perhaps there is only abyss. Trembling, I step forward, in darkness enveloped. Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be let to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker’s Light. And nothing He has wrought shall be lost. I am not alone. _

And so they moved forward.

Ahead of them in the darkness red glowed, and the closer they became the brighter it was. The winding path they followed narrowed and then opened up into a great room. Cassandra stopped the group as they reached the edge, scanning the area for enemies. It appeared to be empty, except for the red lyrium that grew from the walls and sprung up out of the ground. It was lit though, fires burned throughout the room, smoke rose up to the ceiling where a slotted ceiling revealed the dark sky above. It was hard to see exactly how big the room was, most of the walls were cast in shadows, the walls he could see were sheer rock extending up to the ceiling. The fires were proof that someone had been there recently, and they all watched for movement. 

“Over there,” Sera whispered, pointing to the far part of the room, “The red lyrium, it moved.”

“You are sure?” Cassandra asked. 

Sera nodded, “I’m sure.”

“Fire an arrow,” Cullen said watching the spot Sera had pointed to. 

She wasted no time in nocking an arrow back and sending it off with deadly accuracy. The arrow hit, and the room came to life in a haze of red and fire. Cullen felt the heat from where he stood, while the walls around them shivered and broke apart as enemies emerged from them. Some were further gone to the red lyrium than others, some looked normal except for the telltale sign of red glowing eyes. 

Maker’s breath, there were more mabari too. 

“Spread out!” he ordered and led the group deeper into the room while their enemies charged with grating screams. 

“Wait,” a voice echoed through the room. Those charging at them froze immediately, but continued to snarl in their direction clearly impatient to attack. 

“Culllen Rutherford. Finally,” the sound of the voice ricocheted around them. 

The voice was familiar enough, an echo from his past. He couldn’t believe it at first, refused to acknowledge it as a possibility. He was dead, had been dead for years. He couldn’t possibly be here in this cave responsible for so much destruction. 

Then the figure came into view and Cullen found himself face to face with a ghost. 

Samson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay on this update. For those who follow A Class Act as well you're aware of why things have been a little slower. About two weeks ago my brother was in a boating accident and broke his femur. He's doing great now, but since my parents both work and I'm a teacher in the summer I spent a lot of time the past two weeks being with and taking care of him. I also wanted the chapter that comes directly after this one to be completely done before this posted to ensure that the climax builds just the right way, and I intend to post that one on Tuesday so you won't have long to wait for the next chapter. Fight scenes and action sequences are not my forte, so I'm curious to hear what you think! Thanks so much for reading!


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group faces their biggest opponent yet.

Mara’s leg blossomed with pain with every step. She’d poured as much mana into it as she dared, not knowing how much she’d need later, for healing or fighting. Cullen’s stoic mask had only slipped once the whole evening, after the explosion when he’d asked her if she was alright. Otherwise he’d been quietly strong, leading the group. He often let Cassandra lead them forward, but Cullen gave the orders. 

She hated the quiet and the disconnection she felt from him. She knew they all had roles to play, and he was just doing his job, but it seemed so impersonal. She thought she’d heard the glimmer of concern behind the gruff orders he gave, but otherwise he seemed unaffected by what was happening around them. 

She wished she could be as likewise unaffected. Being around the red lyrium made her limbs feel heavy, she felt slow, though she supposed it was probably just a mind trick. She would be so very happy once this day was done. 

She watched Sera pull an arrow back, watched her take a deep breath and go stock still while the string rested against her cheek. The arrow whizzed away and it seemed like the second it hit that the whole room came to life. The walls were moving,  _ fenedhis iasa _ . There were things coming out of the walls. Mara tried to hold her ground, even though everything happening in front of her screamed at her to run. 

She pulled out her daggers, their familiar weight was comforting in her hands. She took a deep breath and reminded herself to relax and trust her training. It would be fine. 

Nearby, Cullen yelled, “Spread out!” All of them obeyed without question. 

Then a voice rose up out of the darkness, “Wait.” Everything around her stopped and she glanced at Cullen looking for instruction, but his eyes were narrowed and he was listening. 

“Cullen Rutherford. Finally,” the voice boomed and Cullen’s eyes widened in recognition. She glanced around to the others to see if she was the only one confused. Cassandra scowled in the direction it seemed to be coming from, but looked as confused as Mara felt. 

She wasn’t sure Cullen was even aware he’d said the name when it tumbled from his lips, “Samson.”

That name…it was familiar, a connection to Corypheus she thought? And then she remembered the whispers, the disgraced templar from Kirkwall turned Corypheus’s general. Defeated at the Temple of Mythal and then judged by the Inquisitor. She tried to remember what was supposed to have happened to him, he should have been dead. He led the red templars, took red lyrium, he couldn’t possibly be alive. Could he?

As if to answer the question a man appeared from behind lyrium on the far side of the room. He stood on a platform overlooking the cavern. His skin was ashen and he had dark bruises under his eyes. His black hair was thin, scraggly down his neck which was covered in red lyrium spikes. However he survived this long, he wasn’t long for this world, the red lyrium was taking him over. 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Cassandra spat at him, recovering far faster than anyone else. 

“Your fine Inquisitor should have separated my head from my shoulders herself rather than exiling me to the wilderness. The stupid bitch,” Samson smiled and even from a distance Mara shuddered. “I doubt even Corypheus knew exactly how long he’d delayed the effects of the red lyrium for me, no matter. I’m here and alive, for now.”

Mara glared up at him and he smiled down at her, “Is this your new mage, Cullen? An elf this time, how interesting. You know, he always liked mages far more than he should. Oh, nothing inappropriate, he was far too dutiful for that. She’s not as pretty as the last one, but I suppose it’s hard to be the woman who came after the Inquisitor isn’t it?”

He must have been able to sense her magic. The more he spoke, the more her blood ran cold. She knew better than to listen to his words, to question, that’s exactly what he wanted was to tear them all apart. But it was hard not to think about what he said. 

“Enough!” Cullen finally spoke, “What is all this about?”

“Don’t you see Cullen? It’s about you!” Samson laughed, “I did this all for you, to bring you here. Isn’t that what you wanted? For this to all be about you?”

Cullen shook his head, “If you wanted me here so badly why send one of your men to meet us in the marketplace?”

Samson shook his head, “He went of his own accord, trying to win my favor. The fool. Still it brought you here faster than I anticipated.”

“Why do you want me here?” 

Samson’s voice had a dark edge to it when he responded, “So that I can destroy you. Make sure all the little friends you brought with you die, and then I’ll drag you back to South Reach where you can watch while I kill your family.” 

Cullen’s eyes narrowed, “I won’t let you hurt them.”

Samson laughed, “You won’t have much of a choice, I’m afraid.”

Then Samson’s face twisted in anger, “You took everything from me! I will see the same done to you!”

“The mighty Knight-Captain of Kirkwall turned Inquisition General will die alone having lost everything he holds dear. Tell me, did you sister forgive you for all the years that you shoved her half-read letters in the bottom drawer? All those pleas, ‘Oh Cullen I wish you’d talk to me’ ‘You’re alive, that’s something you might have told me’,” Samson’s lips curled up as he spoke. 

Cullen didn’t take his bait, “What happened to you? At Skyhold you were so repentant, concerned about what the exile might cost others.”

“And I walked out of there alive didn’t I? Lived to see Corypheus defeated, the Inquisition rise too high for its own good, and then dissolve away into nothingness. And you survive it all, get to go home and open your little shelter. Did you really think you could do good there? Did you really think you could do enough good to blot out what you did as Meredith’s lackey in Kirkwall? The chantry chained us all for life, those people at your shelter might change masters, but they are still bound. Will always be.”

“It’s not true, the lyrium can be beaten,” Mara insisted, voice steadier than she felt.

“At what cost?” Samson sneered. 

She opened her mouth but his voice boomed, “Piss on it, I don’t want the explanations of a elf bitch. Kill them all!”

The room exploded with shrieking that had Mara suppressing a shudder as she met a red lyrium warrior. Samson jumped from his platform, farther than was natural, sword raised as he ran to meet Cullen. Behind him two behemoths followed, lumbering through the room, shaking the area as they walked. 

They were in so far over their heads. 

Her daggers met red lyrium with a metallic screech as she angled the sword bearing down on her away from her body. She dodged another blow from another attacker who had moved to flank her, the movement had her rolling across the stone ground. She didn’t hesitate to call her magic then, reached deep within herself to summon everything she had. She froze the two men who were attacking her, and then plunged her daggers into their iced hearts. 

She had a momentary reprieve to assess the situation around her. She counted twenty red lyrium warriors and mabari, not counting the two behemoths that were bearing down on the group. Perhaps if she cast enough ice around them she might be able to slow their enemies, but she needed to conserve as much magic as she could, enough to fight with and heal with afterwards. If there was an after. 

This was fucking insane.

Mara ran forward to help Cassandra who was trying to block a mabari from joining the frenzy that was already looking intense. Her help wasn’t needed, as soon as she was near Cassandra she watched her bash the mabari in the face and then drive the point of her sword deep into the creature’s mouth. The animal fell with a yelp and Cassandra kept moving, so Mara did too. 

Dagna stood on the edge of the fray weapons drawn in defense, and poised to use them if necessary, but mostly lobbing vials of elixirs at Sera as she called for them. Sera, though primarily an archer, waded into the fray firing arrows and swinging blades while encased in ice or fire. She was terrifying in the midsts of their opponents. 

Mara moved near Dagna and began casting. She was careful, ice magic came more easily to her than any other, but it still felt unfamiliar. She’d suppressed it during combat for so long, she felt out of place on the sidelines attempting to freeze enemies and corrall them with ice. She took stock of the water she could feel within the area. Ice was easier to create when she could pull from existing water, it would conserve her mana longer. Despite being underground, there wasn’t much water near so she’d have to rely on her pull of the Fade. She did her best to make sure every spell she cast counted, she determined she’d throw almost all of it into helping them get through this, and pray no one needed too much healing. 

She was always put off by how quickly the ice responded and bent to her will, it made her feel powerful and it was intoxicating. It had always scared her, but as ice and frost swirled around the room she felt more herself than she had in years. 

They were getting lucky, Eliot and his men had been able to down several enemies while Sera continued to pull down more than her fair share. Cassandra had run deeper into the fighting towards where Cullen and Samson were squaring off, grappling with the two behemoths on her own. 

Cassandra looked small against the two red lyrium giants, but she was expertly holding her own. Mara began to pull ice up from the ground below them when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Out of the shadows, blades swiped through the air. She dove forward, moving Dagna out of danger and attempting to roll to safety. 

She wasn’t quite quick enough. 

She felt a searing pain along her leg and bit down on her lip to keep from crying out until she tasted blood. Her daggers were caught below her body, so she reached for the knife she kept in her belt. 

As she did she heard Dagna yell and rush towards the attacker, tossing a vial at his feet. He screamed as it smashed, writhing in pain as black smoke rose around his feet. The smoke grew thicker as it snaked its way higher, the veins she could see bulging through his skin in dark lines.  Mara threw the knife in her hand with a flick of her rest, satisfied when she heard it bury itself in his flesh. He collapsed to the ground with a gurgling sound. 

“Good teamwork,” Dagna offered Mara a hand up, sounding far too cheerful for the situation they were in. 

“Very good,” Mara nodded as she glanced to the body that lay just a few feet away. She wondered if it was safe to retrieve her knife or if whatever Dagna had tossed his way was still active. 

Dagna seemed to read her thoughts, “It’s safe now, a little something I’d been working on. First time I’d ever used it though.”

Mara tried not to think about that too much as she pulled the knife from the man’s chest, she wiped the almost black blood from the blade on the man’s tunic. The fabric was so worn it nearly crumpled to dust under her fingers. She realized that aside from Samson, none of their opponents wore armor and realized that the men and women who had gone missing from the streets of Denerim were those raising arms against them. These men and women were not warriors and they were vastly unprepared for their group with all of the accomplished fighters they faced. She wondered if Samson had know that, if he had built up these men and sent them to their deaths anyways. 

“We need to get back in there,” Dagna said quietly, pulling Mara from her thoughts. 

She nodded in response, patting Dagna on the shoulder as Mara waded back into the thick of it. She didn’t dare look at her leg, knew that if she did the adrenaline rushing through her veins might be stopped cold, and she couldn’t afford that. She sent a little of her magic towards the pain, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough to heal anything, but hoped it would help her hold on as long as she needed to. 

The copper smell of blood rose in the air along with the song of red lyrium. It made her sick, and then the behemoths screamed an ear-piercing agonized shriek that shook her to her bones. Cassandra wasn’t alone anymore, almost everyone else was facing off against the behemoths too. Sera kept shooting arrows seemed to count her quickly depleting supply of them each time she reached back to her quiver. 

Mara sidestepped past bodies and red lyrium, and then she had an idea. She reached the front lines of the group and kept running, right between the behemoths. She skidded to a stop on the dirt floor, checking on Cullen quickly before turning her attention back to the towering beings behind her. He looked alright, she couldn’t spare him more time than that. 

There was no water below them for her to call up as she had in the square, so it wouldn’t be quite as powerful but she was going to do her best to recreate the success they’d had back in the marketplace. 

She pulled at the Fade, summoning all of the ice that she could. Lines of frost erupted around her, shooting in jagged lines towards her targets. She could hear the creaking of the ice as it formed, felt the pull of the Fade all around her. The force of the ice she summoned made her bones feel like they might shatter, she could taste the Fade behind clenched together teeth. 

Eliot and his men moved with renewed vigor as her magic sprang to life around them and Cassandra let out a battle cry as she swung her sword in agile strikes toward the now brittle red lyrium crystals. When Cassandra pierced the behemoth’s heart Mara nearly felt to her knees at the shriek the creature emitted. 

Cassandra didn’t wait for the creature to fall before she turned her attention to the group of men still fighting the other behemoth. Sera fired a slew of arrows as Cassandra and Eliot both attacked. Cassandra shattered the creature’s leg while Eliot brought ran his sword through the screaming mouth. 

The last behemoth fell, crashing into the ground and shaking the earth. Cullen was still squaring off against Samson. In the low light she could see the sweat on his brow, his face flushed red from the exertion. She burst forward towards them, drawing energy from she didn’t know where but she just felt like she needed to help. 

The rest of the group lay behind them, recovering and taking stocks of wounds. Cassandra saw her moving and began following. 

Cullen must have seen her because he yelled her name, “Mara!” 

She stopped, noticed the way he watched Cassandra running towards them and met his gaze. 

“Please,” he begged, and somehow she knew he wanted to block everyone else out. 

She threw a hand out and with a yell cast an ice wall six feet high across the length of the cave. It wasn’t thick, but it was all she could do without completely expending herself. It would keep them out for now. 

She worried about getting too close, at somehow making the fight more difficult for Cullen, so she stood back and began carefully casting frost and ice at Samson. 

Samson reared up, sword pounding into Cullen’s shield and she pulled harder at the fade, trying to get her ice magic to have some effect on Samson. He’d been a templar and it meant he had higher resistance than most. He snarled in her direction and it was like an invisible brick wall hit her. 

The force of his Silence knocked her back into the ice wall she’d just cast. She crumpled to the floor, her connection to the Fade instantly severed. She panicked. Darkness edged on her vision, threatening to overtake her. She could smell the clearing, see the emptiness in her parent’s eyes. 

“Mara!” Cullen called her name, but it sounded far away like he was trapped behind the ice wall she’d built. 

She fought against the lightheadedness, the limbs of her body feeling so heavy she just wanted to lay down, but she couldn’t. She pushed herself up from the ground, ignoring the protestations of her body. She sucked in a shallow breath, fought to stay upright against the swaying of her body. 

She stood tall, pulling out her daggers from the sheaths on her back. She was not defenseless, had promised herself she never would be again, her magic could might be severed, but she could still fight. She would not fall apart, not here, not now, she hadn’t forgotten the promise she’d made so many months ago in Cullen’s office. The weight of both of those vows pushed her forward, daggers extensions of her arms. 

Samson fell back, putting space between him and Cullen as she came forward. He watched her cautiously, as if he was not sure why she was back up. Cullen took advantage of Samson’s retreat, surging forward and forcing Samson to meet his blows. 

She knew what he was doing, trying to give her the chance to move around behind Samson and flank him. She didn’t waste any time, knowing Cullen must be getting tired and exhaustion meant costly mistakes. Already a bruise against his cheek was forming and she was sure he was bleeding from one wound on his arm, that or it was someone else’s blood. She hoped for the latter. 

She moved to Samson’s right side, slashing at the breaks in his armor. A few of her hits rang true and he rounded on her, quick as lightning. He swung his sword high, bringing it down straight over her head. She saw the movement at the last second, blocking his blow by crossing her daggers above her head. He’d dealt his blow with so much fury she fell to her knees under the weight of it. Then Cullen lopped Samson’s head clean off his shoulders, the spray of blood hitting them both while Samson’s head hit the ground with a grotesque thud. 

Cullen had abandoned his shield, in order to swing his sword with both hands. She wondered if it was due to an injury or just wanting to deal enough damage to sever the lyrium. Cullen let his sword clatter to the ground, and he looked inexplicably tired. It looked like it took him great effort to shove the body aside, to free her of the sword that still hung heavy over her head. And then Cullen collapsed to the ground. 

Behind them Mara could hear the creaking of ice as Cassandra worked to get past the barrier she had erected. She heard Cassandra scream and the ice shatter as she crawled to where Cullen lay in a heap. 

Her hands were dirty with grime and blood and she didn’t want to know what else as she reached for him.  _ Please be alive, please be alive, don’t you dare be dead,  _ she thought as she clutched at him. 

She reached for her magic on instinct, to feel for the signs of life within his body. She cried out in frustration as she bent towards his face, heard the shaking breaths his breastplate obscured her from seeing.

He was pale, probably from blood loss, but breathing. She felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes in relief. Then the darkness that had danced on the sides of her vision since being Silenced claimed her and everything faded to black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised here's the next update, filled with more fighting and all that good stuff. I'm so excited to hear what you think! Thanks for reading!


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Mara leave Denerim for South Reach. This chapter is NSFW. I know what you're thinking, and the answer is that yes this time it really is that NSFW.

Cullen awoke to aching limbs and the feel of unfamiliar magic on his skin. He panicked, forcing his eyes open and trying to figure out where he was.  _ Not Kinloch, please let it not be Kinloch,  _ he nearly let out a sob as he realized the way he felt was too familiar. Had he ever left the circle tower? 

He glanced quickly around the room, it seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite place why. And next to him, curled up on the bed was Mara. Her lip was split, healing bruises littered the skin he could see, golden light fell in through the window over her like a soft blanket. This was no trick of the Fade, he would never imagine her like this. He let out a breath of relief as the last events he remembered hit him in a rush. The cave full of red lyrium and Samson. Samson was dead, once and for all. And then he realized where they were, Andraste’s Hearth. Safe. 

He took stock of his injuries, realizing the healing magic that clung to his skin was not Mara’s. She’d been Silenced by Samson, he remembered that. Breathing too deeply hurt, so some of his ribs had been injured. He’d taken a hit to his right arm, could see the red of the scar that ran the length of his bicep. He ran a hand down his face, hissing when he realized the left side of his face was tender. 

“Cullen?” Mara asked sleepily. 

He turned to look at her, “Hi.”

She looked relieved as she sat up, “You’re awake, finally.”

He looked at her in confusion, “Finally? How long was I out?”

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced out the window to gauge the time, “About two days.”

“Two days?” Cullen balked and tried to sit up. 

She was quicker than he was, cold hands placing cold hands on her shoulders to keep him on the bed, “Whoa, take it easy there. You’re still pretty injured.”

He didn’t fight her, resting a hand on her cheek, “So are you.” It didn’t make sense, her magic should have already healed most of her injuries, and it wasn’t her magic that had healed him so why wasn’t she healed?

She leaned into his touch, eyes falling shut, “I’m fine.”

He’d come back to that in a minute, “How bad is it?”

She sighed, “You’ll make a full recovery. You lost a lot of blood from the arm injury, concussion, a few broken ribs, and plenty of other smaller injuries, like the black eye you’re still sporting.”

He groaned, “Okay. And you?”

She shook her head, glancing away.

“Mara,” he said seriously. 

She wouldn’t look at him as she spoke, “My magic is just taking a while to come back. Cassandra and Dagna think the red lyrium must have strengthened the Silence, or twisted it.”

He remembered it now, felt Samson unleash his power against Mara. Cullen had been so worried for her, remembering the way she’d lost consciousness the last time. She’d stood up, kept fighting and he wished he’d had longer to acknowledge the triumphant nature of that moment, instead he’d had to block punishing blows and worry if they’d both get out of there alive. He could see she was troubled by the lack of her magic, how off balance it made her feel was betrayed in her eyes. He couldn’t imagine, had she suffered for two days, alone, wondering if part of her would come back? 

“But it is coming back?” he asked. 

“Would you prefer it didn’t?” Mara asked quietly, eyes meeting his. 

“Maker no. It’s part of who you are,” he said, taking her hand in his. 

Mara nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears, “It’s coming back, I can feel it. It’s just slow.”

“You need to keep resting, and we won’t go home until it comes back completely,” Cullen promised. 

She smiled, “Oh Cullen, I’m already home. Right here with you.” 

Home. She’d never used the word lightly. He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat, “I love you.”

She kissed the palm of his hand that still rested against her cheek, “I love you too.” Cullen’s breath caught, his heart thundered against his chest. She loved him. The declaration was a simple one, no flourish or fanfare, but the truth of it was brimming in her gaze. 

“Say it again,” he pled. 

She smiled, a tear escaped from her eye, he caught it with his thumb and rubbed it away, “Cullen, I love you.” She bent over him gently, and whispered those three beautiful words again before brushing her lips over his. 

His whole body felt warm and his heart felt like it was too big for his chest. He’d never felt anything like this, but he knew he never wanted to be parted from her. 

“Come with me to Ostwick,” the words tumbled from his mouth. 

Mara pulled back, confused, “What?”

“To the wedding. Come with me,” Cullen explained. 

Mara’s brow furrowed, “What about the clinic?”

Cullen would have shrugged if he could, “We’ll figure it out, just like we did to come here.”

Mara smiled, “You realize that means sailing on a ship right?”

Cullen sighed, “Yes, and I’m willingly submitting myself to the seasickness.”

Mara bit her lip, “Actually while we’re all the way up in the Free Marches I was wondering if we might be able to make a stop a bit north of Ostwick…”

“Your clan?” Cullen asked. 

She shook her head, “No...my parent’s graves. I’d just like to go there one more time, take you with me.”

“Of course,” he replied giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“You know, Sera has spent part of the last two days giving me very specific suggestions about how to wake you up, and also how to avoid as she put it ‘having a little Cully running around’,” Mara laughed. 

“Maker’s breath, she does know you’re a healer, doesn’t she?” Cullen sighed. 

“I think she just liked watching me squirm,” Mara said with a shrug. 

Cullen took a steadying breath, “Since you brought it up, it is probably something we need to talk about before…”

“Already taken care of,” Mara cut him off, “There’s a tea, I’ve been drinking it for a while now.”

He cocked his head, “How long is a while?” 

Her gaze skittered from his, cheeks darkening, “Since that night in my room when I told you I wasn’t ready.”

“Oh,” he replied, unsure what else to say. 

Her voice became very clinical, “As a healer I’d always told any patients who saw me for the preventative to start sooner rather than later, so I followed my own advice.”

He smiled, she was quite the planner. “You are perfect. Now come over here and kiss me.” 

“Is that an order?” She asked as she bent down, but the door to the room burst open.

“Thought I heard voices. He’s up!” Sera called with a smile. Dagna and Cassandra rushed in after her. 

“You’re awake!” Dagna cheered. 

Cassandra looked relieved, but serious, “You gave us quite the scare.”

Sera shook her head, “Pfft, he was always going to be fine.”

Mara had moved a little further away so that the others could speak to him, but he kept a hold of her hand, not wanting to let go just yet.

“Now that you’re both awake you want to explain what in Andraste’s name you were thinking throwing up the ice wall to keep us out?” Cassandra looked cross. 

Cullen supposed he should have expected her anger. He didn’t have much of an excuse except that in the moment he wanted to protect them as best he could. He knew that Mara would never leave his side, and he wouldn’t dream of asking. Mara had understood exactly what he wanted in his rushed plea, and had thrown up a barrier of ice that was as impressive as it was effective. 

He kept a hold of Mara’s hand while Cassandra yelled, and he did his best to keep a straight face while Sera made faces behind the Seeker’s back.  

***

“Where there any survivors?” Cullen asked once the door shut quietly behind him. He stood in Sera’s room, her table was littered with things they’d recovered from the cave. 

“Two, actually,” Cassandra replied, “They were the most recent ones to join, were luckily not too far gone. Eliot took them into custody, and they’ve been very cooperative.”

“Anything useful?” Cullen asked, moving slowly. He was still recovering and he sunk down into a chair with some effort. 

“Enough to know Samson was working alone, that the men and women who joined him joined willingly. We found this among his things,” Cassandra explained handing him a battered book. 

Cullen took it from her, “What is it?”

“A journal,” Cassandra looked a bit disgusted, “Of a man whose mind was not quite his own.”

Cullen flipped through a few pages, many were soiled or discolored, the cramped script was a strain to read, “What do you mean?”

“It begins coherently and then drifts to obsession. He had determined you were responsible for where his life was, and he was doing his best to destroy you in retaliation,” Cassandra said. 

“Do you think I was?” Cullen asked. Had he ruined Samson’s life? Taken everything from him? He’d had no direct hand in Samson’s being discharged from the Order, and yet he had a hard time shaking what Samson had said. 

Cassandra crossed her arms, “No. We all have our choices don’t we? He made his, you made yours. Do you ever wonder though, what might have happened if I hadn’t recruited you to the Inquisition?”

“I don’t think on it often,” Cullen replied, “but I did wonder if I might have ended up mixed up in the red lyrium business, if my life had gone differently.”

“I don’t think you would have gotten mixed up in it after Meredith,” Cassandra said, “but it’s hard not to see the parallels between you and Samson.”

Cullen nodded, unsure what to say. 

“All of the men and women that disappeared went to him willingly, took the red lyrium willingly. He offered them a way out of their impoverished lives and they went with him, put their faith in him. He didn’t even give them armor, even though he knew we were coming,” Cassandra shook her head. 

“He offered them purpose and promised them a better life, how many of us are guilty of putting their faith in the wrong people? I know I’ve been,” Cullen said. 

“As have I,” Cassandra agreed. 

Cullen kept looking through the journal when Cassandra rested her hand gently on his shoulder, “I need to finish packing.”

He moved to hand the journal back to her, but she shook her head, “I don’t want it, I’ve read it all. You decide what you want to do with it.”

Cassandra left him in the dying light of the room, she was leaving in the morning to rejoin the Seekers, she’d been away longer than she’d originally planned. He and Mara were going to stay on another day or two, make sure their injuries were completely healed before travelling back to South Reach. Many said snow was on the way, and he wanted to be on the road before it became impossible. 

Sera and Dagna had opted to stay in Denerim for the winter, they’d oversee the safe destruction of the lyrium and work to track down all friends and family of those Samson had corrupted. 

It was over. 

Before leaving the room he tossed the journal in the fire, he didn’t need any more guilt in his life. 

***

It had begun to snow a few hours ago, and the snowflakes fell, wet and heavy. It was not the fine powder he was used to in Haven and later Skyhold. This snow accumulated quickly, the tree branches groaned under the weight of the snow, and he wasn’t sure he remembered what it was to be properly warm. 

His mind drifted like the snow on the road in the wind, remembering leaving Denerim, 

_ Sera and Dagna had walked with them out into the courtyard, and Sera was uncharacteristically quiet the whole time. Dagna had babbled on, something about roads and weather and things she was working on to make the prediction of it easier.  _

_ Sterling and Lyddie were already there, packed and waiting for them, the stable boy petting Lyddie while she sniffed at his pockets, looking for treats. Mara and Dagna had stopped, but he and Sera continued walking a few more paces.  _

_ “Thank you again for all of your help,” he said to Sera.  _

_ Sera shrugged, “It needed to be done.” _

_ “You’re sure you’re happy staying here through winter?” he asked.  _

_ Sera smiled, “Oh there’s plenty to be done here, plenty of noble tits that need reminding.” _

_ He smiled at that, opened his arms to give her a hug. She moved into the circle of his arms grudgingly, “We’ll see you at the wedding? Promise?”  _

_ “It’ll go by faster than you think,” he said before he released her.  _

_ “I’ll miss you or something, Cully,” Sera laughed, but her eyes were a little sad. _

_ “Miss you both,” Cullen replied giving Dagna a hug as well while Mara said goodbye to Sera.  _

_ As they rode away, Cullen was sorry to go.  _

That had been the last time he was properly warm. The day had been deceptively mild, then it had turned bitter and cold almost overnight. They were both soaked through and freezing by the time they reached the inn. He’d taken note of it on their way to Denerim, a place to stay in case the weather turned, and turn it had.  

Mara hadn’t complained at all, and he wondered if she was even cold, but the look of relief on her face when he suggested they take shelter for the night at the inn told him that she was probably just as cold as he was. 

They both dismounted and somehow moving made him even more cold. He tried to shake it off, “I’ll go get us a room, take the horses to the barn, it should be warmer there. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

Mara nodded and took the reins from him with shaking hands. He walked to the front door of the inn, looking back over his shoulder at her and promising silently to hurry. He pushed open the heavy wooden door and was immediately met with a rush of heat. He sighed at the warmth and shut the door behind him as quickly as he could. 

He stomped his boots a few times on the woven rug that was once bright and colorful, but years of wear and weather had made it grayish brown. The inn wasn’t large and was quite simple, a few mostly empty tables and chairs littered the common room where a roaring fire burned. There were a few people who had congregated in the chairs closest to the fire, and Cullen found himself wanting to do the same. 

“Ser?” a young man greeted him, stepping from behind a small counter, “Can I help you?” There was a room behind the counter, a kitchen, Cullen guessed from the sounds and smells emanating. 

“Please tell me you have some open rooms?” Cullen asked, not having considered that as a possibility. 

The man smiled kindly, “Of course we do. Just you?”

Cullen shook his head, “No…” he paused, unsure what to call Mara. For propriety’s sake he could just call her his wife, but he was unsure what she’d make of that. “There’s two of us.”

The man seemed unfazed by his pause, “Our best room is still open. It’s quite large, sitting room area and a roaring fire.”

After spending the better part of a week of sharing a small room connected to Sera and Dagna’s, a large room to themselves sounded just right, “We’ll take it. We have two horses as well, Mara is taking care of them now.”

“Very good, you’re on the third floor. Shall we get a warm bath prepared as well? You look soaked through,” the innkeeper smiled sliding a room key across the counter.  

“Please. Food as well, anything hot will do,” Cullen said as he paid the man. 

“My husband is working on a fine stew for dinner now. We’ll bring it up when it’s ready.” 

“Thank you,” Cullen said and moved towards the door, steeling himself as he left the warmth for the icy weather. 

He trudged through the snow, he wasn’t sure he could really feel his toes anymore. The barn wasn’t much warmer than the storm outside, but at least the wind wasn’t blowing. 

“Mara?” he called, his breath creating a puff of steam. 

Mara poked her head out of a stall, “Here.”

She’d worked quickly, Sterling was already untacked, brushed and enjoying hay. Mara was still working on Lyddie, her fingers fumbling at the buckles of her saddle, she let loose a few Elven curses, voice hoarse from the cold. 

“Let me,” he said gently coming to her aid. He pulled the saddle off and set it along the wooden railing between stalls. There were only two other horses in the barn, so there probably weren’t many guests. No one was quite as stupid as they were to get stuck in the storm like this. 

Mara brushed Lyddie’s coat quickly while Cullen laid out some hay and oats for her. Neither of them spoke as they worked, both too cold for conversation. 

“That’s good enough for now,” Mara stammered through chattering teeth and walked out of the stall. 

Cullen followed, “As I understand there’s supposed to be a roaring fire and a hot bath awaiting you in our room.”

Mara wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned against him, “Thank the Maker, the Elven Gods...whoever for warmth.”

“Perhaps we should avoid blasphemy for now, you might end up struck by lightning,” Cullen joked. 

“But then I’d be warm, or dead. I’m not sure I have a preference at this point,” Mara managed through chattering teeth. 

He placed his arm over her shoulder and led her into the inn, “Come on, my love.” The endearment was new to them both. It had slipped from his lips a few days ago, and Mara had been so flustered by it he’d kept using it, loving the way she smiled at him every time he did. 

They let go of each other when they entered the inn, and he led her quickly up the stairs to the third floor. 

“Just throw me in the fire at this point,” Mara said has he fumbled with the key, “I think that’s the only way I’ll be warm ever again.”

“That would be a bad idea,” Cullen said as he opened the door, he stepped aside so she could enter. He placed their bags against the wall as Mara rushed to the fire, gloves and boots abandoned as she moved towards it. 

He closed the door and cast a glance about the room, there was a large bed, a small sitting area with a couple chairs and a small table, over in the corner of the room was a bathtub, steam rising from it, half obscured by a privacy shade. 

He moved behind Mara, kissing the cold tip of her ear, “There’s a hot bath waiting for you over there.”

She turned still shivering, “Oh….that sounds lovely.”

“You can go first,” he said as he slipped his own gloves off. 

Mara paused for a moment before she responded, “The tub looks quite large enough for two.”

Cullen was sure he’d heard her wrong in his half-frozen and dazed state, “What?”

She was still shaking and he wondered if it was just from cold now, “We could...share? Only if you want, I mean we’re both cold and...”

He took her freezing hands in his own, his heart pounding as he replied, “I’d like that.”

She looked relieved as she gave him a tired smile and walked towards the tub. She began taking off her clothing and Cullen followed, shrugging out of his overcoat and removing his breastplate. He chanced a glance at Mara to see that she wasn’t having much luck getting out of her leather jerkin. 

Her fingers were too cold to undo the fastenings, he took a deep breath and strode forward. He grasped her hands and pressed a kiss to her fingers, “I can help.”

“I’m too damn cold,” she said exasperatedly. 

Cullen laughed as he undid the fastenings, “And here I thought you had been keeping yourself warm with your magic.”

Mara shook her head as she let the now undone jerkin drop, “Fire isn’t my strong suit, and by the time I needed it, I was worried I’d set myself on fire rather than actually warming myself.”

He chuckled and tried to concentrate on the task at hand rather than the distracting way that her wet undershirt clung to every curve of her body. She was perfectly capable of undressing herself from here and he knew it, but instead she stood still and allowed him. 

This was the most intimate they had ever been, this was different than shifting clothing in the darkness of a tent. He was incredibly aware that this would be the first time they would be completely naked before one another, and Mara seemed to be aware of it too. He could already feel his erection hardening, despite the cold as he lifted her shirt over her head and pushed her breeches down her legs, leaving her in nothing but her smalls and breastband. 

She turned then, presenting her back to him and allowing him to undo the ties of her breastband. It slipped away and he exhaled a shaky breath that had nothing to do with his body temperature. 

When he didn’t move she wriggled out of her smalls, and was then completely bare before him. She turned to face him, with the same expression she wore when she rushed into battle, and met his eyes. He tried to hold her gaze, but his eyes wandered over her body. The dusky pink of her nipples, the dark thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs, the light scars that littered her body and the snaking blue of the vallaslin on her arm that wound all the way to her shoulder. 

He was staring, and he could see the nerves in the way she held herself. “Maker’s breath, you’re beautiful,” he finally managed amidst several failed beginnings of his tongue. 

She smiled, but her teeth were chattering, “And you’re overdressed.”

He laughed, full of nerves and love, “Get in the tub.”

She complied with a sigh, sinking into the warm water then she leaned her head back and raised her eyebrow. He tried not to undress too quickly, but he was anxious to touch her, to feel her soft skin under his hands and to be warm. He pulled his tunic over his head, left only in his breeches now. He pushed his breeches and smallclothes down in one motion before he lost his nerve. His erection slapped up against his stomach and he looked to Mara. 

Her gaze swept over him appreciatively, “You’re something else, you know that?” 

He laughed out of nerves and side stepped the clothing that littered the floor, “Make some space for me.”

She moved forward in the tub, hugging her legs and he sunk down behind her. The water was almost painfully hot against his cold skin, and he let out a groan. Once he was settled he pulled her back to him and her bare back laid against his chest. His hands trailed down the smooth skin of her arms and she sighed contentedly until he brought them to rest against her stomach. They stayed like that for a long while, basking in the warmth of the bath and each other. He tried not to think too lecherously about the fact they were naked together for the first time, or how each time she shifted it brushed up against his erection. 

“Mara?” he asked, reluctant to break the quiet they’d created, but he had to know. 

“Hmmm?” she replied shifting closer to him so that the small of her back brushed against his stirring length. 

“Why did you suggest this?” he whispered. 

He knew she was smiling when she answered, “Because I was cold and it had been too long since I’d been in your arms.”

He smiled and his stomach twisted in anticipation as he pulled her ever closer. The tops of his thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts and the action was met with a hitch of breath. He went boldly on, cupping them both as he bent to kiss her shoulder. Under the water her fingers left burning trails along his thighs, and he lazily explored every inch of her skin with his hands and mouth, living for every sound of contentment she made. 

She move away after a few moments, and he almost protested, but she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. It brought them flush with each other, her breasts pressing into his chest. 

His lips crashed against hers, he’d waited too long before kissing her properly. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips and he buried one of his hands in her hair the other splayed along her back, pulling her as close to him as he could get. 

She sighed against his lips as he cupped her ass, but it wasn’t quite enough. He was trying to figure out how to angle them both to get the friction they both so desperately needed. One of her hands began wandering down his chest, nails gently scraping against skin, and he groaned into her mouth. 

A knock came at the door and they both pulled apart so quickly they splashed water onto the floor. 

“Dinner!” came a voice from the other side of the door. 

Mara moved to the other side of the tub, giggling into her hand. 

“Just a moment,” Cullen called. 

Mara’s eyes were bright with mirth as she whispered, “Hurry!”

He threw her an exasperated glance as he got out of the tub as quickly as possible, nearly slipping on the water they spilled as he grabbed a towel from a nearby stool. 

He glared at her as her body shook from silent laughter. It only served to make her laugh harder. He pulled his breeches on and threw a tunic over his head, stopping only to pull the privacy screen all the way over to obscure Mara from view. He rushed to the door and wrenched it open, trying to conceal his heavy breathing. 

A young brown haired man held a tray heavy with delicious smelling food and bread and Cullen realized just how hungry he was. The young man didn’t look even the slightest bit fooled by Cullen’s attempt at propriety, and Cullen got the impression he a pretty good idea of what they’d been up to. “Here you go, Ser.”

He took the tray from him gratefully, “Thank you.”

“Enjoy your evening,” he smirked and walked off. 

Cullen shut and locked the door, hoping for no more distractions to their evening. He placed the tray on the table next to the fire and turned back to Mara. She emerged from behind the screen, wrapped in one of the robes that had been next to the towels. 

“It smells good,” she smiled, the terrycloth hugged the curves he had ran his hands over just moments before, and he hoped dinner was just a momentary reprieve of their earlier activities.  

***

After they’d finished eating he pulled Mara into his lap, she settled her head against his shoulder and they’d both dozed, warm, fed and content. He’d awoken a while before she did, but he kept still enjoying the feel of her curled up in his arms, the luxury of not being needed anywhere, of being able to just be. There was no more red lyrium hanging over them, no more secrets between them, and Cullen allowed himself to believe that this was the way things could always be. 

She stirred in his arms and he felt her press a line of kisses against his jaw, and he smiled, “Awake I see.”

She nuzzled against his cheek, “Mmmhmmm.”

She put an arm around his neck and angled herself so they could look at each other, “I love you.”

It didn’t matter how often she said it, every time Cullen’s heart jumped, and he felt a tug of emotion in his throat. The admission always made him breathless. She loved him. Maker, it didn’t seem like it was possible to be this happy. 

“I love you too,” he murmured before he sealed the words with the brush of his lips. The heat and passion from earlier was banked no longer the second their lips met. He shivered as her cold fingers rested on his neck, deepening the kiss. 

The kiss was comfortingly familiar, but frighteningly new. The way she kissed him was like an offering, of silent permission granted. He never wanted to assume she was ready before she told him that she was, so they stayed there for a long while running fingers through hair, over the layers of cloth that separated them. 

She broke away with a gasping breath, “Cullen?”

He left searing, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, soothing gentle nips with his tongue as he trailed down and along her collarbone, pulling the fabric or her robe away so that her shoulder lay bare to him, “Yes?”

“Perhaps we should move somewhere a little more comfortable?” she asked breathlessly, breasts pressed distractingly against his chest.  

He thought she’d never ask, “Of course, my love.” He rose from the chair, surprised his legs were still working after the way she had been touching him. He closed the distance between the chair and the bed in a few short strides, laying her down gently against the pillows, her now dry hair haloing out. She was gilded in firelight, the sole source of light in the room and he was sure she’d never looked more beautiful. 

Her fingers were on the ties of her robe, toying with the ends. He swallowed hard stilling her hands with his, “Mara….we don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel we have to because of earlier.”

Mara bit her lip, “I want to.”

Maker, he did too, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her just how much. How long he’d been wanting to run his hands across her bare skin, to see what sounds he could coax from her, to show her how much he cared for her.

Her cheeks darkened and her hands began moving again. He released them, unable to take his eyes off of her. She slowly undid the tie, and it didn’t matter that he’d seen her naked earlier that evening, or that he’d touched her bare skin, when she bared herself to him she took his breath away. He let his eyes roam greedily over her, taking in every curve and every angle of her body. 

When his gaze finally met hers she smiled, “Enjoying the view?”

“Oh yes,” he smirked at her brazen question. Simply looking at the glory that was her was suddenly not enough, he ached to touch her, to kiss her. 

He pulled his tunic over his head and crawled up the bed to her, slanting his lips against hers in an urgent kiss. Maker, he wanted her. A whisper of anxiety rose up in the back of his mind, it had been a long time since he’d had a woman in his bed and there was the added pressure that she had never been with anyone. He felt honored that she’d chosen him and he’d resolved a long time ago to take his time with her, to worship every inch of her body, but his resolve faltered with every movement of her hips against his.  

He kissed down her neck and cupped her breasts as he rocked against her. She gasped when his tongue swirled over a hardened nipple. He nipped it gently, drawing out another gasp from her before turning his attention to her other breast. Her hands carded through his hair and he sighed at the feeling of her cool hands against his heated skin. 

His hands drifted lower resting on her lower abdomen, and his mouth followed in a line down the taut muscles of her stomach, “Mara, what do you want?”

Her chest heaved as she looked down at him, “You.”

His lips crashed to hers and his hand cupped her sex. She cried out when he did, the sound slowly drifting into a sigh. His fingers parted the lips, and he ran his thumb in an exploratory circle over her clit. Her hips bucked against his hand, seeking more. His cock ached to be inside her, and he fought to keep his hips still as he worked her carefully.  

He broke their kiss while a finger teased her opening. Her eyes fluttered closed and he slowly slipped one finger inside of her, he watched her face as he did, watching for any signs of pain.

“Cullen…” she breathed as she sucked in a shaking breath. 

She was tight and wet and his erection strained against his breeches painfully, he wanted to lose himself in her. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he slid a second finger inside her and rubbed circles around her clit. Her back arched, pushing her breasts up in offering. He kissed slowly down from her neck, before turning his attention to her breasts. She was close, he could feel it in the way she moved around him. He pressed his fingers in deeper as he continued to stroke her clit, and then she shattered around him with a near sob. 

He continued to work as she came back down, breathing heavily, “Oh, Cullen.”

He smiled and moved back over her body his hips thrusting into hers, anything to relieve the built up tension within his body. He felt her fingers pulling at the lacing as she pulled away from the urgent meeting of tongue and teeth, “Is this okay?”

“Maker, yes,” he said as he kissed down the column of her throat, but he paused. “How cold are your hands?”

“That was my next question,” she laughed, wiggling her fingers in front of his face. It was a clear sign she planned to use magic, and he loved her even more for always asking.  

He gave her a nod as he sensed the subtle pull of the Fade around him. When her hands returned to his skin, they were warm. 

“Is this alright?” she asked before she continued, warm hands tracing paths of fire down his abdomen as she pressed her lips to the scars that littered his chest.

“Touch me,” he whispered, granting her the permission he knew she needed. 

She was gentle with him, and he kissed her as she slowly explored. Her touch was exquisite, it’d been so long since anyone had touched him and touched him in this way. It was reverent, not like she was afraid of breaking him, but like she considered him precious. Her hands moved over him in perfect strokes, that somehow both relieved and built tension in every slide of her hand. He broke their kiss to wriggle the rest of the way out of his breeches and Mara released him. 

When he returned, he settled on his side next to her. Mara wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He balanced himself on one arm, running his free hand across the smooth expanse of her skin. He didn’t push her for more, perfectly content to be together, skin against skin as they exchanged breathless kisses and murmured endearments. 

She clung to him, and he followed her lead until he hovered over her, bodies not quite perfectly aligned. He leaned back, took in her heaving chest and kiss bruised lips, “I love you.”

Mara smiled breathlessly, “I love you, too. I want you.”

His breath caught at her bold declaration, “Are you sure?”

She nodded as she her fingers moved across his chest, “Very sure.”

“If you want me to stop, you tell me and I’ll stop,” he promised as he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. 

“I know,” she murmured. 

He crawled up her body, adjusting for their height difference. Her head was more level with his neck than his head, but if he bent he could still kiss her. He grasped his length in one hand, ran the head along her entrance and they both groaned. He slid inside, her perfect, tight heat enveloping him. He moved a little at a time, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. All the while he watched her for any sign she was hurting, but her eyes were trained on his and so full of love and lust he had to restrain himself from simply taking her. He moved slowly, giving her time to adjust to him before pulling out and pushing back in. It was excruciatingly slow, but when he found himself fully hilted inside her he paused.

He fought to stay still, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, “I just need a moment.” If he was being honest, he needed a moment too. He wanted to savor this moment with her, the connection of their bodies, the feel of her. 

He felt her clench around him and he shut his eyes, trying to regain focus, “If you do that...I won’t last long at all.”

She smiled innocently, “What do you mean?” She clenched around him again. 

He shook his head and kissed her soundly between laughter, burying his fingers in her hair. He pulled out and pressed back into her slowly, the laughter ceased and her eyelashes fluttered. 

“No fair,” she managed with a shaky breath. 

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair, the steady pace he’d set already faltering. 

Her hands moved across his back, pulling him to her, “I love you too.” He lost himself in the feel of her, in the meeting of their hips, in the build of pleasure. Their lips brushed in the moments between stolen breaths and Cullen tried to pour all of his love into every skim of his fingers across her skin. His hips stuttered and he decided to do something he’d been saving since the night he’d discovered it, he moved to the side of her head and ran his tongue up the length of her ear.  

She moaned his name as she came, tensing under him, and he was sure that nothing could ever be better than the way she said it then. A few more thrusts of his hips and he followed, her name on his lips. He slumped over her and attempted to catch his breath as she peppered his face with kisses. 

He rolled off of her, pulling out as he went, “You are incredible.”

She glowed as she looked at him, it sent his heart hammering knowing he was the one to have made her so happy, “I think that would be you actually.”

He kissed her soundly, “Well, I’m not hardly done with you yet.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first smut I've ever shared/written/etc and I'm still blushing at the mere thought of sharing it. Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed it and I'd love to hear what you think in the comments.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Mara continue their journey to South Reach. This chapter is NSFW.

Mara awoke to a quiet knock on the door and the sound of gentle footsteps somewhere beyond her. She didn’t open her eyes, content to lay in the soft bed and think on memories from the night before that had bled into her dreams. 

It had been perfect. They had dozed afterwards, waking up sometime in the night to a dying fire and to each other, making love again after Cullen threw another log onto the fire. Cullen had been so absolutely careful with her, as if he was scared of hurting her. She could tell he’d held very tightly to his control, and she wanted to know what it would be like for him to let go. Even so, it had been more than she’d ever expected. 

As a healer she was familiar with bodies, with the way they worked, how they reacted. She felt prepared, thought that she knew what to do, how things would be. She’d been laughably and pleasantly wrong. She had felt clumsy and unsure at first, but Cullen hadn’t seemed to notice or care, quietly reaffirming with every touch. She hadn’t been prepared for him, for the raw power of his body, the beauty of him, and what it had felt like to be so connected with him. She stretched lightly under the covers, finding herself a little sore, but mostly that her body was already clamoring for his touch.  

She felt the bed dip down behind where she lay on her side, and Cullen’s arm curled around her. He pressed a gentle kiss to her bare shoulder and then nuzzled against the crook of her neck. 

“Good morning, my love,” she could hear the smile in his voice. 

It made her feel warm all over, “Good morning.” She melted back into him, relishing in his warmth and laughing at how she could already tell he was aroused. He held her tighter, brushing his lips teasingly along the point of her ear. 

“Do we have to leave soon?” she asked, hoping that the answer was no. 

“No, it’s still snowing,” Cullen replied. 

She turned in his arms so she could look at him, “Really?”

He smiled, “I should probably say that it’s snowing again, it seems to have stopped sometime in the night only to start back up.” His hair was a mess of curls, running in different directions and Mara was sure she’d never seen him look more handsome. 

“So?” she asked, suddenly hopeful that the perfection didn’t have to end just yet. 

“I don’t think we’re leaving until tomorrow,” Cullen replied, amber eyes warm. 

She kissed him, hard, teeth clanking in her enthusiasm. She felt him smile against her lips, the rasp of morning stubble on against her skin, “You know there’s breakfast here for you.”

“Not terribly interested in that quite yet,” Mara said rolling them both so she was straddling his hips. He must have undressed again after answering the door, because he was gloriously naked under her. 

She bent down to kiss him, her hair falling over them both and rocked her hips, pleased when she heard his breath catch. One of his hands gripped her right hip, while the other wandered along her side. His touch was always careful and so reverent it made her heart pound. She understood the advantages to that position then, being able to touch and be touched, and seeing him the whole time. 

She broke away from his mouth, kissing down his neck to his chest. She felt like she hadn’t gotten much of a chance to pay attention to him last night, and she’d been thinking of how to rectify that. Her hands trailed through the fine dusting of hair across his chest, while her lips followed. 

“I think I could be more amenable to mornings if they began like this,” she smiled. 

He laughed, and it rumbled through his body, “Maker, I love you so much.”

“Yeah?” she asked as she nipped at his skin. 

He groaned beneath her, his fingers falling just on the right side of too tight as she ground against him. She wasn’t sure, but it felt as if his control was slipping a bit as she teased him. He’d kept his hips still up to that point, letting her control things, but his hips had begun rocking up towards her insistently.

“What do you want?” she asked with a smirk, sliding herself along his length. 

He was a little breathless when he replied, “When did you become the tease?”

She laughed, “Sometime last night after you teased me.”

“I wasn’t aware I’d done any such thing,” he protested. 

Her hands were just barely warm from running over his body that she didn’t hesitate she reached between them to take his cock in her hand. She sank down slowly, the position new for them both. They both groaned as she took him, he somehow felt deeper from this angle and her body felt like as if it was buzzing from every new sensation. 

Cullen was watching her carefully as ever, as if he was gauging if she was alright. She gave her hips a good roll, and delighted in the way he moaned her name. His fingers held her hips tightly, pulling at her to keep the movement going. It threw her slightly off balance, leaving her bracing her hands on his chest while she tried to follow the guidance of his hands. One of his hands came between where their bodies met, thumb moving in careful circles. His hands were calloused and rough, but they skimmed her skin so gently, she found she enjoyed the juxtaposition.

She couldn’t help the sound that escaped her then, it was something between a moan and a whine. Cullen looked positively smug about it, and she would have been more upset about that if she hadn’t felt so good. Pleasure rolled over her in waves, building in pressure. She lost all thought except continuing to drive herself closer to edge. Her orgasm hit her hard, stealing her breath, Cullen kept her moving, hands on her hips taking her all the way through it. She slumped a little, panting for air as she came back down. 

“You are so beautiful,” Cullen whispered, a trace of awe in his voice. 

Cullen pushed himself up, caught her face in his hands and kissed her, slow and deep. All the while their bodies moved together, creating a rhythm of their own. His lips left hers, skimming down her throat and to her breasts. He rubbed his cheek against them, and she gasped at the sensation of his scruff against the sensitive skin. 

She dragged her nails down his torso, drawing a rumble from him as he swirled his tongue over the peak of her breast. Her eyes slid shut as the crest of another orgasm loomed, and the hand Cullen had buried in her hair tugged just hard enough for her head to tip back, giving him more access to her throat. 

She came apart under his hands after a few more movements of their hips, it wasn’t as strong as the first, left her wanting more rather than sated. She was surprised by how greedy he made her, how she always seemed to want more of him. Her heart was hammering in her chest, she wondered if Cullen could feel it, the way their bodies were pressed up against each other. Cullen’s arm tightened around her, and then her world flipped. 

His eyes were dark, his motions somewhat erratic, like he struggled for control. She placed her hand against his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Just let go. You don’t have to be so careful, you won’t hurt me,” she promised. 

His hips thrust forward, and he sucked in an unsteady breath, “You don’t know that.”

“How about I trust you not to hurt me, and you trust me to tell you if you do,” she whispered. 

He rest his forehead against hers, “Sometimes it terrifies me how much I want you.”

She held him closer, “I love you.”

At her words he groaned and sank to one elbow above her, his other arm tight under her waist, holding her to him. He began thrusting, pace steady but movements becoming more frantic the longer he went. 

His lips sought out hers, insistent and rough. She kissed him back, teeth catching his lower lip. His pace quickened, and she held on, loving the raw power of his body, the way his muscles jumped under her fingers. Her fingernails scraped down the length of his back, and he hissed. 

“Maker’s breath woman, you make me forget myself,” he murmured. 

“I thought that was sort of the point,” she kissed along his jaw. 

He chuckled, “Fair point.”

“Should I be offended you can still form a coherent thought?” she managed around a wave of pleasure. 

His hips stuttered, “Who….said...anything...about...coher-” She silenced him with a kiss, and shuddered under his touch as she came, her vision shimmering and head falling to the side. His grip on her tightened as his hips met hers a few more times. Her name left his lips in a hoarse shout as he came.  

They stilled, wrapped around each other as they caught their breath. It seemed neither wanted to let go, Mara knew she didn’t want to. After a few quiet moments Cullen pulled away the arm that was still around her waist. He rested it against her cheek, shifting so his weight wasn’t fully on her. 

“You’re alright?” he asked, concern coloring his gaze.

“More than alright, always more than alright,” she whispered kissing the tip of his nose. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked. 

She smiled, “Very. And you?”

He chuckled, “Better than I have in a while. Did you know you steal the blankets?”

“I do not,” she argued. 

He smiled, “You definitely do. And then you made yourself a nest out of them.”

She winced, “Did that wake you up?”

He kissed her temple, “I’ve always been an early riser.”

“That didn’t really answer the question.”

He sighed, “Yes, but I was mostly awake anyways. Your vice-like grip on them just meant I didn’t stay in bed.”

“I’ll try to work on that,” she said apologetically. 

“Don’t worry about it,” his arm tightened around her. 

She snuggled in closer to him, “Can we stay like this all day?”

“I thought that was the plan,” he dropped a kiss to her temple. 

She’d never get over the easy affections between them, the feel of his skin against hers and the his arms around her. She didn’t want to, wanted to commit this all to memory. “You said there was food?” she asked, glancing up at him. 

Cullen grinned, “I thought you said you weren’t hungry.”

She laughed, “I just wanted to have my way with you first.”

***

They left the inn the next morning, both a little reluctant. They’d found pieces of themselves there, in each other, it made it all the more difficult to leave. 

The snow had stopped sometime the day previous, leaving the world covered in white. The tree boughs hung heavy with snow, it was slightly warmer as they traveled and the branches dumped snow on the ground, and occasionally on them. The world was not quiet as they rode, the popping and creaking of the branches a constant symphony. It was the first good snowfall of the year, and there was something magical about the untouched expanse of it. A clear blue sky met the hills to the north, and the length of mountains they followed stood majestic and white against the bright blue. 

Cullen had been sure that even with the snow they might be able to make it to South Reach by nightfall. She hoped he was right, as she did not look forward to spending a night out in the snow after spending the last two in the warm comfort of an inn. 

It wasn’t long before the road seemed familiar, the landmarks changed by the snowfall, but recognizable. Cullen pointed it out to her, breath puffing out in steam in front of his face, “Doesn’t that look like the Holstead’s farm?”

“It does,” she nodded. 

Cullen smiled, nose a little red, “We’re close!” He urged Sterling on, and she and Lyddie followed. 

There was a sense of homecoming as she caught her first glance of the estate. It looked so different, covered in snow. The ivy that clung to the north side had withered, ice crystals clung to each curve of the browned vine. The windows were frosted over, but smoke rose cheerily from the chimneys. 

They entered through the ice covered gate, finding Branson shoveling a path between the house and the stables, a worn wool hat on his head and a red scarf around his neck. Henry, bundled in a thick coat and several homemade wool offerings, played in the snow in the yard, chasing David around as the mabari bounded through snow drifts. 

Mara couldn’t help but smile, it felt so much like coming home. She’d found that feeling with Cullen, but this was just a little bit different. It was a welcome familiarity, it was Branson looking up and his eyes lighting up when he saw them. It all felt so right. Lyddie sped up of her own volition when she saw Bran, anxious to be reunited. 

Branson ran to the main house, opening a door and shouting for Mia and Rosalie, before meeting her and Cullen in the yard. Cullen had barely dismounted before Bran pulled him into a hug. 

“Big brother, I see you managed to find your way back!” Branson grinned. 

“We did,” Cullen smiled. 

Branson let go of his brother and moved to her, picking her up as he hugged her, “And you’re in one piece too!”

She laughed, but she understood his relief. Mia and Rosalie appeared at the door, rushing out into the snowy day. 

They were both nearly thrown off balance by Lyddie head-butting Bran. He set Mara down to give Lyddie his full attention. Sterling was, as usual, a little above the whole thing, already wandering towards the stable. 

Bran followed with Lyddie, “I”ll take care of them both!” Henry and David followed through snow drifts. 

Mia and Rosie were both greeting Cullen, but Mia pulled her into a hug almost immediately after they had inspected Cullen and found him free of injury. 

“What about you? Are you alright?” Mia held her at arm’s length and looked her over. 

“I’m fine,” Mara smiled, completely moved by the concern. 

Mia pulled her back into a hug, holding her tightly, “You’re both okay. I was so worried.” Mara clung to her, the emotion in Mia’s voice had gotten to her. Is this what it felt like to have family? To have someone miss and worry over you when you were gone? It had been so long. 

“Thank you, for bringing him back,” Mia whispered so quietly only she could hear. Mara glanced away as Mia pulled away, both of them wiping at errant tears trying to escape their eyes. Cullen gave her a curious look when she looked back up, but then Rosie was there. 

“We’re so glad you’re back!” Rosie smiled. 

Mara laughed, “We’re glad to be back.”

“You two are probably freezing let’s get you inside,” Mia shooed them all out of the snow. 

Cullen took her hand in his as Mia and Rosie entered the main house. She pulled him down and kissed his cheek, “Welcome home.”

His hand splayed out wide along her back as he pulled her closer, and she knew that the importance of her words were not lost on him. He smiled against her lips, “You too, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wonderful people you, gosh you guys made me feel so good about that last chapter. THANK YOU! I wanted to have this ready to go before now, but school started and it has made life so crazy! Anyways, thanks as always for reading and look, more smut lol.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running the estate while Mara and Cullen were away was not without challenges, and they must deal with them upon their return.

Cullen and Mara rode into South Reach and Cullen couldn’t help but think about the last time he’d arrived in South Reach. He’d come from Skyhold, riding into the small farm town at the beginning of summer alone, exhausted and frustrated. He’d been nervous, unsure about seeing his siblings after so many years apart. In his nervousness he hadn’t had time to think about much of anything else, how would they receive him? Would they be angry? It was hard for him not to think back to how he imagined it would go, with someone at his side. 

Almost two years ago, he and Lorraine had made plans to go to South Reach and surprise his siblings, they hadn’t told many of their plans, just the few in the Inquisition who needed to know. He’d found the letters from Edmund three days before their planned departure, after that he couldn’t seem to get up the courage to go, not until there was no where else to go. 

Mara rode side by side with him, errant snowflakes caught in her hair and eyelashes. It hadn’t really done much more than flurry most of the day, but they didn’t seem to melt when they touched her. He couldn’t stop glancing over at her, just to check that she was still real. How was it possible for her to be riding back home with him? Without her Denerim would have likely gone very differently. She could do anything, and yet she was with him, he couldn’t help marveling. 

He was surprised by the sense of home he felt as the scenery became more familiar. The feeling that this was a place he claimed some ownership to was overwhelming. He didn’t think that any place would feel that way in such a short period of time, and yet he realized he had never really considered anywhere home in a long time. Home had always been a far off place, somewhere he would go back to someday. For a while it was Honnleath, but once his parent’s died and his siblings left it, it was never the same. 

He only returned to Honnleath once. He’d taken Lorraine and the whole time all he could focus on was the differences. He didn’t even ride out to where his childhood home once stood, afraid of what he might see, what he might feel. Home was a concept tainted then, a place that had gone on without him, weathered a Blight and then rebuilt, and there was nothing left of it except his memories of what it had once been. 

He wondered if Mara felt that way, travelling with her clan. She said they’d returned to places on occasion, but it had never felt the same. Sometimes years had passed, and she wondered if she had really missed the place or just who she had been when she’d been there last. He’d wondered if that was the sentimentality attached to Honnleath, if he missed who he’d been there on the side of the lake, dreaming about what his life might become. He wondered if that young boy would be disappointed by the man he’d become. 

He didn’t think he’d change much even if he was given the choice. 

Mara caught his eye, with one look checking if he was okay, he gave her a nod and then urged Sterling, suddenly anxious to be home. Home. 

He was going home. 

He saw the smoke from the chimneys first, steadily rising into the blue-gray sky. The sky had been bright that morning, cloudless and cheerful in the newly fallen snow. As the day wore on clouds moved in, growing darker and threatening more snow. Cullen found himself very glad they were close to home. 

They entered through the heavy iron gate, that stood always open, always welcoming. Branson was shoveling snow while his son and mabari played in the snow in the yard, occasionally making his job more difficult, but Bran didn’t seem to mind. Bran saw them and quickly ran up the steps and called for Mia and Rosie. 

Cullen hadn’t even gotten his feet under him after dismounting Sterling before Bran pulled him into a hug. He was taken aback by the gesture, remembering the stiff way Bran had greeted him when he’d first arrived in South Reach. So much had changed, so much had been repaired. 

Branson pulled away with a grin, “Big brother, I see you managed to find your way back!”

Cullen couldn’t help but smile, “We did.” They’d solved what had needed to be solved, protected his family, his work, everything. 

Branson moved out of Mia and Rosalie’s way greeting Mara with a hug as well. She looked so happy to see his siblings, and his heart seemed to be swelling within his chest. His attention was pulled away by his oldest sister examining him for injuries. 

She held him at arm’s length, hawk-like eyes looking him over, but still full of worry. He stood still, letting her worry over him. He was vaguely aware that Bran was taking the horses to the stable, but his attention was on his sister. Emotion tugged at his throat as she finally decided he was uninjured and then pulled him into a bone crushing hug. There was no hesitation, no tentativeness to it, and he hugged her back. He was happy to be home, to be safe, to see his family safe. 

“You came back,” she whispered. 

“Did you think I wasn’t going to?” he asked. 

She pulled back, golden eyes tinged with sadness, “I’d worried that it would take longer than planned, and then turn into something else, until you just didn’t come back.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to tell her he would never abandon them and the clinic, that he was there to stay for good. He wondered if perhaps words were not enough, that he would need to keep showing her instead. He didn’t say anything. 

Mia gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before she moved onto examining Mara and then Rosie was in front of him, looking a little apologetic. 

He pulled her into his arms and she whispered into his ear, “Sorry, she’s been quietly worrying since the morning you left. But she kept insisting she was not worried at all as she kept herself busy with meaningless tasks.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. 

“You came back, that helps,” Rosie said quietly as she moved back. 

As Mia and Mara pulled apart they both appeared to be wiping at their eyes. He gave Mara a questioning look, hoping everything was alright, but Rosie was enthusiastically greeting Mara. 

“You two are probably freezing, let’s get you inside,” Mia said with a smile, pulling gently at Rosie, who was already babbling away at Mara. 

Rosie and Mia walked ahead of them and he took Mara’s hand, meaning to ask her if everything was alright. She tugged gently on his arm and he bent towards her. She deposited a quick kiss on his cheek. 

“Welcome home,” she said as her eyes crinkled with her smile. 

He couldn’t resist pulling her to him, knowing that home was not something she ever used lightly. He kissed her as he replied, “You too, my love.”

He was glad to walk into the familiar foyer, a few Satinalia decorations remained. An evergreen garland still hung along the bannisters, and the red ribbons remained as well. Mia always had been reluctant to take down all of the Satinalia decorations. 

Barris walked out of the office, looking a little tired, “Cullen!”

Cullen greeted him, suddenly eager to hear all that had transpired in their time away, “Barris!”

Barris looked to Mia and Rosie for permission, “Can I borrow Cullen and Mara for a bit?”

Mia and Rosie both nodded and excused themselves, while Cullen’s heart sank at Barris’s expression. 

Mara was the first to speak, “How were things while we were gone?”

Barris glanced around the empty foyer, “It’s best if we discuss it in private.” He gestured for them to follow into the office, and Mara shot him a concerned look as they followed. Cullen shut the door behind them and Mara had begun to pull her jacket off while she perched herself on the far end of the couch. 

“What’s this about, Barris?” Cullen asked, steeling himself against all of the worst case scenarios that had begun circulating in his head. 

Barris sighed, “Emmett left. Took off, didn’t leave a note, say where he was going, just left. I thought about trying to send you a letter, but I didn’t know how to reach you and you don’t have ravens here.”

“Only ravens are the ones Leliana sends,” Cullen replied, still trying to wrap his head around what had happened. “What do you mean he left?”

Barris rand a hand down his face, “He got a letter a day or two after you left, seemed pretty upset by the contents, wouldn’t talk about it, then two days ago his bed was empty in the morning.”

“So he deserted?” Cullen asked, anger boiling up under his skin. 

Mara crossed her arms, “That’s sort of harsh. It’s not our job to keep them here, we’re not a prison.”

Cullen swallowed down his temper, “Well then, good riddance.” Mara looked unimpressed. 

Barris ignored his remark, “I reached out to Riordan, and he promised to keep me updated if they found him. I think he’s gone though.”

Mara frowned, “He mentioned family in Starkhaven. Let’s send a letter and just check in, I’d feel better if I knew he’d gone to someone rather than just leaving for no reason.”

“As would I,” Barris agreed. 

Cullen took a deep breath, “Alright. Other than that, how were things?”

“Well that was the other thing,” Barris glanced between him and Mara, “Yesterday, we had a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Mara asked. 

“An older templar, Ser Maxwell. He came because he heard we helped templars. I think he’s probably too far gone to go off the lyrium, but we’ve made him comfortable and planned to do our best until you arrived,” Barris explained. 

Mara stood up immediately, “I’m going to go to him then. Unless there’s anything else?”

“Uh, no,” Barris said. Mara nodded to them both before disappearing out the door, and shutting it silently behind her. 

“So that’s what happened here. Did you solve the mystery in Denerim?” Barris asked.

Cullen shifted his weight from foot to foot, “It was Samson.”

Barris didn’t seem terribly surprised, “I knew Lorraine made a mistake when she let him live.”

“You can be the one to tell her that,” Cullen replied. 

“I think Cassandra will take care of that for both of us. Maker, how was he even alive?” 

“Whatever Corypheus did to delay the spread of the red lyrium lasted much longer than he anticipated. It was a mess, he’d been recruiting homeless men and women, or some from the alienage and then giving them the stuff,” Cullen explained. 

Barris’s face paled, “Really?”

Cullen could see the shadows of memories move in Barris’s eyes. Barris had been at Therinfal Redoubt, had seen his brother’s and sister’s in the order become corrupted by red lyrium. “At any rate it’s done, Sera and Dagna are overseeing the destruction of all of red lyrium we found. It’s done.”

Barris nodded, “Good.”

“Tell me about Ser Maxwell,” Cullen asked, pulling his gloves off. 

It was time to get back to work. 

***

Mia and Sal worked together to put together a meal befitting of a homecoming. It doubled as a bit of a goodbye for Cullen’s siblings as well. That evening they’d all return to their home, no longer staying at the estate. Cullen continued to thank them, for taking over while they were away. Barris had done well considering all that had been thrown at him. Audra, Lyre, Trina, Davis, and Henrick all seemed excited to see him and Mara return. 

Mara had spent most of the afternoon with Ser Maxwell, who preferred to just go by Max. He seemed trapped within a constant loop of a few memories. He was often convinced he was a fresh recruit, having just taken his vows. Or he was a seasoned veteran at a circle. Very rarely was he really with them. Mara had managed to piece bits and pieces together as best she could in just a few hours with him. He knew he needed help, and that was what had brought him to the estate. 

He was in his early fifties, hair already gray. He pulled at his scraggly beard at intervals, it was almost like a nervous tick. Cullen couldn’t help but feel that he was staring directly into his future if he had remained on lyrium. He reeked of it too, and the song made his stomach churn and his veins cried for want of it. But the hold wasn’t as strong as it had been. Thank the Maker for that. He didn’t know how Barris had managed to be around him the last few days. 

Mara had determined that Max wasn’t strong enough to go off of the lyrium, so she’d give him controlled doses and they would take care of him until....He wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge the inevitable end. 

He remembered his argument with Mara on one of her first days at the estate, about keeping lyrium on the premises. She said this would be a possibility, and she had been right, as usual. It hadn’t been as difficult to accept as he thought it might be. 

After getting an update on everyone who hadn’t the estate from Barris, Cullen had wandered into the infirmary. Mara was fretting over her stores, and Max sat with a book open, but his eyes didn’t move across the page, and Cullen believed the man wasn’t even reading at all. 

“Hello,” Cullen introduced himself as he pulled up a chair. 

Max set his book down and smiled, “Are you the Knight-Commander?” 

“There are no titles here,” Cullen replied, “You can just call me Cullen.”

Max frowned, “This is a very strange sort of circle. I noticed you have one of your mages working with hardly any templar supervision.”

Cullen wrung his hands, “This is not a circle, Max. Do you know where you are?”

Max’s eyes widened, “Not a circle?” 

“No, we are a safe place, a haven for templars to come to and quit lyrium and be taken care of,” Cullen explained carefully. 

Recognition finally danced through Max’s eyes, “Yes, someone….someone told me I could come here. Said you helped templars. The circle I was at fell a few years back...I can’t remember the name. I lived there for years. I can’t even remember the name….”

Cullen breathed a little easier knowing that Max was at least there with him for the moment. “It’s alright,” Cullen handed Max a leather-bound notebook, “I think you should write down everything you do remember, you’ll probably remember more if you put it to paper.”

Max clutched the notebook, “I will try. It’s the lyrium isn’t it? That’s why I can’t remember things?”

Cullen glanced towards Mara, who he knew was listening in over by her desk, she met his eyes and gave him an encouraging nod, “It is.” 

Max looked inexplicably sad, “I always looked at old templars with a sort of pity, never believing I’d be one.”

Cullen understood. Once a templar’s mind began to go they were often transferred to larger circles or chantries, where they’d go more unnoticed. They were a well-kept secret of the Chantry. Cullen had known a few, they tended to band together, quietly covering up each other’s mental lapses until they couldn’t be hidden any longer. He’d pitied them as well, young and arrogant, never believing that lyrium would strip the best pieces of himself away too. 

“You’ll be well cared for here,” Cullen promised, “Mara is the best healer I know.”

Max nodded, but was quiet, slowly flipping through the blank pages of the notebook. Max suddenly sat up straight in his bed, looking at Cullen with mild fear in his eyes. 

“Knight-Commander! I’m terribly sorry about my appearance ser. As soon as I’m out of the infirmary and back to my duties I promise I’ll look more professional,” he explained, words a rush. 

Cullen sat stunned, thrown off by the sudden shift. His heart sank as he nodded, “Ser Maxwell it’s quite alright. We can hardly control when we fall ill.”

“Quite right, thank you ser,” Max nodded before picking his book back up that he’d set next to his side. 

He muttered quietly to himself, “I’ll be better in no time, return to my duties.”

Cullen stood slowly, putting the chair back against the wall. He walked over to where Mara was working and she glanced at him apologetically and waved him to follow her into the hallway towards her room. She stayed partly in the doorway, so she could keep an eye on Max, “I’m afraid he’s been like that since I first met with him.”

“Will it get better?” Cullen asked, not hopeful. 

Mara sighed, “Hard to say. I think a little. He’s been gorging himself on lyrium for a while. Barris had the other healers take away what he had. I’ll be regulating his dosages from now on. Perhaps the lower dosage might help him be more himself? I’m not sure.”

“Won’t he notice the smaller dosages?” Cullen asked. 

Mara sighed, “I’ll back it down slowly. But from what I understand he was taking an almost insane amount. I won’t go anywhere near that.”

Cullen ran a hand through his hair, “It’s going to be a problem isn’t it?”

“I will ensure there isn’t one. He seems a little distrustful of the fact I’m a mage, but not necessarily me treating him. We’ll build a rapport, it’ll be fine,” Mara said. He knew she was right, but he did worry that Max’s templar abilities were fully intact, and that he might use them. 

“That’s supposed to make me feel better isn’t it?” he chuckled. 

Mara smiled and pressed a quick peck to his lips, “Definitely.”

She walked back into the infirmary to get back to work, and so he returned to his office and decided he’d help figure out some way to help Max remember who he was for longer. 

***

The snow on the path he and Branson walked was stiff, having sat untouched for days. It took a moment for their boots to sink through the iced-over layer and sink down into the softer snow beneath. It hadn’t snowed in days, but the cold weather had lingered and the snow remained unmelted.

Cullen didn’t mind, he enjoyed the snow. Mara on the other hand disliked it as much as one could dislike anything. It was hilarious to him how she grumbled and complained about it as if it was out to personally attack her. It didn’t help that most of her herbs had died while they were away. She’d managed to salvage a few of the heartier ones, but mostly they were smashed and frozen. 

Their destination wasn’t much farther, just through the path between the trees. Cullen hadn’t been here since he’d bought the property, not seeing much use for the structure until now. He’d instead focused on the renovations on the main house, thinking that the structure was too far from anything to be practical. Now, he believed it might be just far enough. 

The trees cleared and the structure came into view, covered in snow and looking utterly neglected. Cullen came to a stop in front of it. 

“Well?” he turned to Branson. 

Bran looked around staring specifically at the roof and then doing a quick walk around one side, “I think once the snow melts we could start working on it.”

“It’s salvageable?” Cullen asked. 

Bran shrugged, “Needs a new roof, windows, not sure what the inside is going to need. I don’t dare go in with that much snow on the roof. You, on the other hand, are completely replaceable, so you could go in.”

Cullen rolled his eyes, “I’ll wait for the snow to melt.”

Bran patted his shoulder, “Probably a safe bet, it would ruin the surprise if you came back injured.”

“So you’ll help?” Cullen asked. 

“Yeah, Matthew probably will too,” Branson nodded, eyes still scanning the structure. 

Cullen smiled, “Thank you. This remains a secret.”

“Just don’t tell Rosie,” Bran warned. 

Cullen laughed, “I won’t.”

He looked solemnly towards the structure, it was going to take an awful lot of work, but he hoped it would be worth it. 

Once spring came work could begin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, at the end of the main story line. The next chapter is going to be a jump forward a few months to take us to Ostwick and a few adventures there. I'm also starting up another work which will be titled "Stories of Winter" that will tell the stories that fall between this chapter and the next. Stories of Winter won't have a regular update schedule or anything, but more a place to add stories that fall within that time frame as inspiration strikes. Thanks for sticking with me through this story, I'm SO excited to take these two to Ostwick! As always, thank you for reading and for every kudos, comment and sweet message this story has received!


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Mara travel to Ostwick.

There was something wild in the ocean breeze that called to her. There were few times when Mara missed her life wandering from place to place with her clan, but the Ferelden winter had been harsh and long and the sea promised something that sung a little bit of her past.

The gulls followed the ship, their calls mixing into the sound of the waves, their white wings blending into the white clouds in the spring sky. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining brightly and the lingering chill of winter just a whisper in the breeze. The coastline stretched out in a lush green, some snow still visible on the highest peaks of the mountains in the distance. 

There was a terrifying openness to the ocean, it made her feel incredibly small in a way the surrounding hills and peaks of South Reach never did. She’d adopted them as her own, calling them her mountains, and she never missed the way Cullen looked at her when she did.

Cullen gripped her hand tightly as the ship cut through the waves that lead to open sea. Foam lapped against the side of the ship where they stood watching the Denerim harbor disappear behind them in the distance. His hands were clammy, sea travel was not his first choice, but there was no other way to cross the ocean to Ostwick, and it was days faster than traveling on foot to the Storm Coast to save a day or two at sea. 

She had put together a packet of herbs to help him combat the seasickness he feared, but she hoped they might not have to use them at all. The seas were calm and the wind was good, Captain Hadley had guessed they’d reach Ostwick mid-afternoon in two days time. 

They’d booked their passage on the Day’s Grace, a small but pretty fluyt that Sera had recommended. It was primarily a merchant ship, transferring goods between Ferelden and the Marches, but the captain occasionally took on passengers. Sera had written about how the ship had been one of the few that didn’t make sea travel terrible, but Mara wondered if she hadn’t just been more taken with the very pretty captain. Hadley was tall, brown hair cropped just shy of her shoulders, and her eyes were seafoam green. She was no-nonsense, and her small crew seemed to know it. Mara couldn’t help but admire the way she ran her ship. 

The ship crested a rogue wave, tossing it a bit and Mara noticed Cullen’s free hand dug into the railing. She moved closer to him, “Everything alright?”

“I hate ships,” he said simply. His forehead was covered in sweat that Mara knew had nothing to do with the temperature. She’d managed to convince him to leave his armor at home, convinced him that whatever they encountered on the road and at sea they could handle without it. But he looked a little lost in the soft brown leather jacket he wore, even if his sword was strapped to his side. 

“I’m not sure how, this one is quite pretty,” Mara teased. The cedar of the deck gleamed, as clean and fresh as the white sails that snapped above them in the wind. 

Cullen sucked in a shallow breath, “Fine. It’s pretty. I still hate it.”

The ship rocked a little as they sailed forward, but not badly. She was a little surprised to see him so affected by it, “Would you like some herbs?” The wind had teased out the curls he worked so hard to tame, it was one of his few vanities, but she loved seeing it like this. It reminded her of quiet mornings and waking to each other. 

He shook his head, “I think I’m just going to pretend we’re back at the inn.” He threw her a bit of a smirk.

There hadn’t been much of a need for it with the weather as nice as it was, but on their way to Denerim they’d stayed at the small inn they’d spent two nights in on the way back from Denerim at the start of winter. It had been a particularly lovely evening, and Cullen was still smug about it. 

“I’m quite sure we have a whole room all to ourselves below deck,” she teased. 

His face had a shiny pallor to it when he replied, “Yeah, that’ll happen.” Then he spent the next several minutes emptying the contents of his stomach over the side of the ship. 

Mara kept a firm hold of his hand and rubbed comforting circles along the tense line of his shoulders and waited for it to subside. 

Captain Hadley approached, bucket in hand, “Take this, for when he gets tired of standing on deck.” 

“Thanks,” Mara said, giving her a bit of an apologetic look. 

Cullen had stopped heaving beside her and Captain Hadley threw him a bit of an amused look, “Mr. Rutherford, I will be very cross if you make a mess on my ship.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cullen managed. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Rutherford, you’ll get your sea legs beneath you before you know it,” she called as she strode towards the quarterdeck and the helm. 

Cullen chuckled and muttered, “Didn’t happen on the way to or from Kirkwall, hardly believe it will happen now.”

“Do you feel better now at least?” Mara asked. 

Cullen shook his head, “I’m afraid not. I did warn you.”

“You did,” she agreed, “maybe sitting down will help?”

He nodded, taking the bucket from her and holding onto it for dear life. He slumped down right there on the deck, “I’m sorry about this. I ask you to come to my former lover’s wedding and then I’m the worst travel companion in all of Thedas.”

She sank down next to him, “I wouldn’t change a thing….well maybe the puking. You know what I mean.”

“I love you,” he replied, taking her hand in his. 

She smiled, “And I love you.”

They sat together like that for a while. Mara relished in the ability to just sit next to him. Winter had been busy, and trying. She was sure they were stronger for weathering it, but she still held to the small moments like that one, sitting together with nothing that needed doing pulling them away from one another. 

Dark clouds built and gathered in the late afternoon, towering high and purple gray over the darkening ocean. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the sprinkling of rain began. The ocean wasn’t quiet, large waves rolling the ship and tossing it back and forth. With each roll of the ship Mara was sure something terrible was going to happen, like them capsizing. Gone was the lovely and mostly carefree morning. 

“Two of you best get below ship, this is going to be quite the storm,” Captain Hadley called over a particularly loud burst of thunder. The woman looked absolutely excited. Mara wasn’t sure if she should feel comforted or alarmed by that fact.

She ushered Cullen down below deck to the small room they’d taken their things to earlier. She had managed to keep them both upright on the journey below deck, despite the movement of the ship. She closed the door to their cabin behind them and then the ship pitched and it sent both Cullen and Mara grasping at anything solid to stay upright. Mara shut her eyes tight, willing the world to right itself again. When there was a momentary reprieve she opened her eyes to see honeyed ones reflecting back at her with concern. 

“I thought you said you didn’t get sea sick,” he said, his face was a shiny pale. Cullen still held tightly to the bucket the captain had handed them that morning. 

She took a deep breath, “It’s not that. I’m not overly fond of feeling like the ship might capsize at a any moment though.”

Cullen nodded, his knuckles were white from grasping the wooden beam that ran overhead in the small cabin. 

“Do you want more herbs?” she asked, offering him a small packet. She wasn’t actually sure that they were helping, but she kept offering and he kept accepting. 

Cullen nodded and took the small bag, reaching in and and taking a pinch-ful before chewing it. Mara looked at the two tiny bunks that lined the wall of the small cabin, “Top or bottom?”

Cullen raised an eyebrow, “You don’t want to share?”

“There’s barely room for you in one of these, and you want to try to squish into one?” she asked incredulously. 

They both swayed as ship rolled with another large wave, “Yes, and the sooner the better.”

She kicked off her boots and crawled into the bed, it was softer than she expected and it felt good to be laying down, safer somehow. It was sort of ridiculous to think that if she was lying down the ship might not sink, but she did anyways. She turned on her side, trying to make as much room for Cullen as possible. 

His warm body pressed against hers as he laid down beside her. He was warmer than usual, feverish from the seasickness. “Lift your head up,” he whispered against her ear. 

She complied and felt his arm slide under her head as the other arm was draped over her waist. He’d made a protective cage for her and it grounded her as the ship moved violently again. 

“See, I told you there was enough room for both of us,” he nuzzled the back of her neck. 

She smiled, “And when you roll over and fall off the edge you have only yourself to blame.”

He chuckled, “It’s worth it.”

***

Cullen didn’t sleep well that night, waking a little green. Mara left in the morning, having slept better than he had and ventured out onto the deck. Unless she’d been there, she never would have known there had been a storm the night before. The ship was racing forward with a solid wind propelling them and the sea was a stretch of blue glass. 

She stood at the side of the ship, worried to get in the way. She watched the waves glide by, the smell of salt in the air. It was calming, the sound of the waves and she found she could stand there watching off the side of the ship for a long time. 

“How’s Mr. Rutherford this morning?” Captain Hadley approached, hands clasped behind her back. She moved like she’d been taught to walk in a ballroom instead of on the deck of a ship, graceful and smooth. 

“Still pretty sick,” Mara admitted. 

Hadley frowned, “Unfortunate. For a Dalish you seem rather sea-worthy.”

“Oh?” Mara turned, unsure what to say. 

“I mean no offense, I’m sorry if it seemed that way. I just don’t see many Dalish elves traveling the sea, and the few I have tended to be very grateful when we were on dry land again,” Hadley explained. 

“My clan tended to remain inland,” then Mara paused, “I didn’t ever tell you I was Dalish.”

“Lavellan was the name given when you booked passage. Clan Lavellan, isn’t it?” Hadley smiled. 

“It is,” Mara replied. 

“I rather like knowing about peoples and geography of all places,” Hadley said, “you seem rather enjoying the sea though.” 

“I am,” Mara agreed, “I’m not sure I would make a very good sailor though.”

“Why do you say that?” Hadley asked. 

Mara looked over the deep blue of the waves that rose up in the distance, “I spent so long looking for home, I think being away from it so much I would miss it desperately.”

“My home travels with me,” Hadley replied as she strode towards the quarterdeck, “but I suppose it’s not quite that way for everyone.”

Mara smiled, no maybe it wasn’t that way for everyone. But her home was more than just Cullen now. In the last few months she’d found herself officially part of the Rutherford clan. There was a wonderful sort of belonging, she realized she missed them just a little. 

She split her time between staying on deck and checking on Cullen, but in the late afternoon he’d fallen asleep so she kept away, watching the sunset over the deep of the ocean and the stars begin to appear in the night sky. 

The first moon rose up above the water, casting long streaks of silver across the rise and fall of waves. She sat on the bow of the deck, cross-legged against the wood riser of a step. She relished in the sea breeze that blew along the deck. It was sort of paradise sitting there, the stars twinkling to life above her. 

He moved so quietly she didn’t hear him until he was right next to her, “There you are.”

She looked up. He looked gaunt in the moonlight, deep bruises beneath his eyes not helping. He hadn’t kept down any food since they’d boarded the ship, and Mara believed that he was planning on not eating until they were on dry land once again. 

“You were asleep earlier, I didn’t want to disturb you,” Mara said quietly. 

Cullen sat down beside her, “It’s a pretty view.”

“I thought you might hate it because of the seasickness,” Mara said, leaning into his shoulder.

Cullen chuckled, “I don’t hate everything to do with ships simply on principle.”

She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, “Are you feeling better?”

He wound his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him, “Only because you’ve worked so hard to try to help.”

She laughed, “I didn’t think my herbs helped much.”

“If this void-taken ship wouldn’t rock so much, I’d be fine,” Cullen buried his face in her hair. 

“Oh yes, let’s fix it by taking the ship out of the water seems like a great plan,” she melted into his arms. 

“I am nothing if not practical,” he kissed her temple. 

“I love you,” she said simply, she worried she didn’t say it out loud enough. Each time she did he looked at her as if he she was saying it for the first time, his eyes softened, crinkling in the corners. She couldn’t see his face, but he pulled her ever closer, arms tightening around her. 

“And I love you,” he said. 

“We had a rough winter didn’t we?” she said quietly. 

He sighed, as if talking about it more might make the difficulties resurface, “We did.” 

“I feel like I didn’t realize how bad it was until we were away from the estate,” Mara admitted. 

Cullen took hold of her hand, “I think getting away will be good for both of us.”

She turned to look at him, “Did I hear that correctly, Commander?”

Despite his sickness, he did look more relaxed than he had in a long time, “Once we get off this blasted ship, yes.”

Mara laughed, “Tomorrow we should be back on land.”

“I most certainly hope so,” Cullen said. 

She kissed him properly then, feeling as if she’d gone too long without his touch. They sat under the blanket of stars for a long while. Pointing out constellations and enjoying their time together. They crept back below deck late, the second moon already high in the sky and fell asleep to the gentle roll of the ship. 

***

The air turned warmer the further north they sailed and in two days time just as Hadley had said, Ostwick appeared on the horizon. The port was well protected, a fort rising up high on the cliffs. Mara could see the double wall encircling the main part of the city, though fields stretched out far beyond and large estates sprawled over the hills. 

Ostwick was a bustling port city, but was much brighter than Denerim. Mara had never been to Ostwick, having left from Wycome when she had left the Marches originally. It took much longer for them to reach the port than Mara expected once it came into view, but Cullen was already packed and ready to go long before they docked. He had their bags slung over his shoulder and he stood impatiently on the starboard side, watching Ostwick come clearer. 

“Mr. Rutherford, we will not dock any faster with your pacing,” Hadley said as she inspected her crew up in the riggings. 

Cullen immediately paused in his pacing, looking a little sheepishly out towards Ostwick. Mara wound her arm through his, “That anxious to get to this wedding?”

“No, just onto dry land,” he admitted. 

“We’re almost there,” Mara promised. 

He sighed, “I know. I admit I’m a little nervous to see everyone again.”

“Really?” Mara asked, glancing up to his face. He stared out towards Ostwick with a look of determination. 

He rested his hand in on hers, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

She grinned, “Me too.”

When they had finally docked Hadley approached them, “So, Wycome on the last day of Cloudreach?” After the wedding in Ostwick Mara and Cullen were going to travel north to her parent’s graves. Mara wasn’t sure how to put it into words, but she felt like this might be the last time she’d ever travel to the Free Marches, might as well make the trip. She had a map that seemed to weigh down her pack for how to get there, then they’d meet Hadley again in Wycome, the last stop her ship would make before travelling back to Denerim. 

“That’s the plan,” Cullen replied. 

“If you’re late, we will not wait for you,” Hadley said seriously. 

“We understand,” Mara nodded. 

“Until then, safe travels,” Hadley gave a slight nod and then began supervising the crew in unloading the hull. 

Cullen took Mara’s hand and led her down the steep wooden ramp onto the Ostwick docks. The air was humid and briny, but Ostwick glittered in the sunshine. She could see why the Qunari had found this place so desirable, it was lovely. 

Once off the docks Cullen seemed to breathe easier, the firm ground below him rather than the toss of a ship. The wandered through the city, the wide streets so different from the winding of the Denerim alleys. They passed through the double wall, heading towards the pretty fields that rippled in the wind, towards the large estates on the hills. 

Any question they had about whether they were at the right estate were immediately assauged by Sera and Dagna rushing out to meet them. Sera had been inspecting some honeybee hives, but immediately had come running when she saw her and Cullen walking up the road. Sera was dressed in something besides her usual plaidweave and red tunic, in a deep blue jacket that looked like it hadn’t been through hell and back. 

“Cully-Wully and Mara!” Sera called as she ran headlong into them both, both her and Dagna offering up near-tackling hugs in their enthusiasm. Cullen was even laughing, just as thrilled to see them. 

“I wondered what all this ruckus was for,” a man called, striding towards them. He had dark hair and an impeccably styled mustache. His clothing looked far finer than anything she had ever owned, his jacket left one arm bare, the green collar rising up on one side. 

“Dorian!” Cullen smiled, greeting the man with a hug. 

“Maker, it’s been too long,” Dorian hugged him back. 

Cullen chuckled, “Is this your way of telling me you missed me?”

Dorian huffed a bit, but Mara suspected it was likely for show, “I would never do something so common as to miss you.”

“Course not,” Sera rolled her eyes, “That’d mean you like us.”

“You must be Mara, I’m Dorian Pavus,” Dorian extended a hand to her, ignoring Sera’s comment. 

Mara took his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

Dorian smiled, “It’s so nice to meet you, you’ve been all these two can seem to talk about in all of that red lyrium business in Denerim.”   
“Oh?” Mara wasn’t sure what to say to that. 

She was saved by the arrival of Cassandra and a gigantic Qunari, who she assumed had to be The Iron Bull. 

“Cullen!” The Iron Bull boomed, picking up Cullen like a rag doll and pulling him into a bone crushing hug. 

Cassandra came to her side, “I’m so glad you came.”   
Mara couldn’t help but feel a little out of place with all of these people she’d only ever heard stories and songs about, but she smiled so she just smiled, “How have you been?”

Cassandra shrugged, “No complaints, I did have something I wanted to speak with you about later.” Mara was interrupted by the Qunari greeting her.

“I’m The Iron Bull, but most just call me Bull,” Bull explained. 

“I’m Mara,” she replied a little awkwardly. 

Seemingly out of nowhere a blonde young man appeared next to her, “You don’t have to be so worried about everyone liking you. They already do because you make Cullen so happy.”

“Kid, don’t make it weird,” a dwarf approached, his shirt was wide open, revealing an expanse of chest hair. That had to be Varric Tethras. 

“Hey Curly,” Varric smiled, “Who’s your blonde friend?”

Sera crossed her arms, “You mean his girlfriend, Mara.” She made a raspberry noise with her mouth that left Dagna and Bull giggling. 

Varric let out a low whistle, “Girlfriend, huh? And you even braved the sea passage to see us all. Hawke’s here too, he’ll be thrilled to see you Curly.”

They began walking deeper into the estate, through the tall iron gates. Varric had fallen into pace beside her and Cassandra while Cullen walked ahead with Dorian, Sera, and Bull. 

“Mara Lavellan isn’t it?” Varric asked. 

“It is,” she wrung her hands together, hoping she was making a good impression. The blonde boy’s words kept rattling around in her head, Cole, Cullen had explained was a rare sort of person, a spirit, but more human now. 

“Cullen didn’t want you to be afraid of me,” Cole said, from behind her. “I help people, even Cullen isn’t afraid anymore.”

Varric had waited patiently for Cole to finish before he spoke again, “You know there are an awful lot of stories about you and how you saved Denerim.”

Mara laughed, “I did no such thing.”

“Not the way Sera and Dagna tell it,” Cassandra tsked. 

“You did more than I did,” Mara said, turning towards Cassandra. 

“Not true,” Cassandra offered a rare smile. 

“Well anyways, your reputation has already proceeded you. We’re glad you’re here. And the kid’s right, you make him happy,” Varric said. 

The group ahead of them had stopped, but were still joking and laughing. Cullen did look happy, he was among his friends. Despite any discomfort she felt being here and hardly knowing anyone, it was worth it for how happy he was. 

A woman was coming down the grand steps of the massive house that towered above them. Cassandra whispered in her ear that it was the Inquisitor. Mara felt her stomach churn.

Lorraine Trevelyan was beautiful. She looked every bit the part of the Free Marcher noble, and Mara should have known her when she saw her, the remnant of her left arm setting her apart from anyone else there. Her long brown hair was pulled back simply and hung down her back. Her deep blue dress was simple, and yet showed every bit of her status. Her gray eyes were flat, and cold but she smiled when she saw Cullen walking between Bull and Dorian. 

Her voice was gentle, almost purposefully so when she spoke, “Cullen, you came.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Cullen replied. She moved forward, pulling him into a stiff hug. 

Then flat gray eyes landed on Mara, who felt immediately small in the former Inquisitor’s presence. “And you are?”

Cullen took Mara’s hand, pulling her from the back of the group, “This is Mara.”

Lorraine Trevelyan pursed her lips, “Ah. Welcome.” Her voice sounded anything but welcoming. 

“You’ll have to excuse me, I’ve got some things to see to,” Lorraine said and gracefully walked away and out of earshot. 

The group stood there, mostly in silence. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dorian finally said, “She’s happy for you, when she thinks about it.”

Mara wondered if coming had been such a good idea afterall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a standalone piece [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6604477/chapters/18464914) that is about Lorraine Trevelyan and gives some insight into the demise of her and Cullen's relationship. I'd recommend reading it to understand more about Lorraine now that we've met her, but it's definitely not required to understand. I'm so so thrilled that we're finally in Ostwick and all the adventures to come. Thanks so much for reading!


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen spends time among friends, but Lorraine's greeting continues to worry him.

The Dormer estate rose up tall and sprawling over the rolling hills of Ostwick. Vines rose up and clung delicately to the shadier sides of the main house. A large stable stood on the edge of a large field, and several smaller buildings peppered the area. It was almost more of a compound than it was an estate. There were people everywhere, bustling this way and that. The anxiety Cullen had been feeling about the whole trip seemed to twist up inside him, and then it was replaced with a lightness in his chest as he greeted all his friends. 

As Sera and Dagna had run up to him, he’d felt a sense of homecoming. He supposed among among those who had called themselves the Inquisition, there would always be a certain nostalgia. He remembered how they’d wondered if they’d ever see happy days like this, the Breach closed, Corypheus defeated and be able to celebrate being together. He wished he could go back and give them a taste of this day, of the knowledge that they would survive, and it was worth fighting for. Maker, it had never felt so true. 

Watching Mara with everyone had given him a certain sort of pride, to be able to introduce her and her to be immediately so loved and welcomed, he couldn’t find the words. 

And then there had been Lorraine. 

He knew when Lorraine Trevelyan was angry. He’d been on the receiving end of her wrath a few too many times not to notice that the way she waved them all off meant she was incredibly upset. What he couldn’t fathom was why? Why be so upset? He felt his hands clench into fists at his side as she walked away. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dorian said, a hand resting on his arm, “She’s happy for you when she thinks about it.”

“Boss just likes things all about her. She’ll get over it,” Bull agreed.

So she was upset that he’d moved on, that he was happy. It frustrated him. He’d been nothing but supportive when she’d brought Edmund to Skyhold, when she’d announced her engagement. He’d expected the same from her, he was the one who had been put off after all. 

Sera crossed her arms, “Being a right noble tit she is.”

He glanced to Mara, to make sure she was alright. She shook her head, not saying anything. “Hey,” he said quietly. 

Mara didn’t look to him, instead glancing around at the faces of all those surrounding them. Eventually she gave them all a strained smile, “I’m not sure we were ever destined to be great friends, considering.” 

The group laughed, and Cullen wished he knew what she was thinking. Mara never said it, but after learning about how Lorraine had broken things off she’d become very protective of him whenever the subject was brought up. And now that Lorraine had expressed her feelings, he just hoped there wouldn’t be more to it than the mild awkwardness and brush off. 

Cassandra frowned at Mara’s comment, “I supposed that was to be expected.” Though it was clear none of them had. 

“Perhaps I should…” he tried to think what he should do, “speak with her?”

“Take your things to your room and then relax with a round of chess would be better I think,” Dorian said with finality. 

“That’s a great idea,” Mara smiled encouragingly. 

Cullen nodded, “Alright.”

They began moving towards the house when the door opened and Vivienne came through the door. She glanced around expectantly, “I’d heard quite the racket out here, I wondered who had arrived.”

He and Vivienne had never been good friends. He felt that no matter what he did he earned her disapproval. She had told him on a number of occasions that he was ‘too Ferelden’, whatever that meant. He didn’t have any patience for the way she played the Game, but she had been one of Lorraine’s closest friends within the Inquisition, so he’d always tried not to earn too much of her ire. 

“Just me, I’m afraid,” Cullen said, expecting her disappointment. 

She laughed, “It’s good to see you.”

“Um, thank you,” he said awkwardly. 

Vivienne’s cool gaze drifted over to Mara, “You said it was just you, but you’ve brought someone.”

“This is Mara Lavellan Head Healer at our clinic in South Reach,” Cullen introduced Mara, and then glanced back to Vivienne, “this is-”

“Vivienne, Grand Enchanter. It is a delight to meet you,” Vivienne interrupted with a smile. 

Mara smiled back shyly, “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

Vivienne looked as if she’d just realized something, “My dear, you’ve come straight from Ferelden haven’t you?”

Mara glanced around to the others as if she wasn’t sure what she should respond, “Yes…”

“Cullen, you’ll find that your clothing for the festivities is already in your room. No arguments. Mara you need to come with me, Cassandra you too.”   
Cullen wasn’t the least bit surprised, she’d probably coordinated it all with Josie. He turned to Mara, “Best not to fight it.”

Mara simply nodded and Cassandra made a noise that told everyone what she thought of the whole thing, but she began to follow Vivienne and Mara did too. Giving everyone a brief wave as she disappeared out towards another building on the massive property. 

Dorian stuck close to his side, “Come on, your room is in the guest wing with everyone else’s.”

The mansion was in typical Marcher countryside-style. It was large, the outside a sunburnt yellow. Coining stacked up on each corner, bright green stunts of newly grown ivy hugged the outside walls where the sun was the least harsh. Almost every window opened up into a balcony with an ornate iron rail. The inside was all warm wood and bright sunlight streaming through the open windows. The entryway was massive, a large wooden staircase split and ran along the sides of the room. A huge crystal chandelier hung, sparkling and imposing above them.  

Dorian led him up the stairs, servants appeared here and there travelling through the corridors and disappearing quietly through doors. 

“Is Josie here?” Cullen asked. 

Dorian laughed, “She’s been here for weeks coordinating everything from what I understand. I’m sure she’s out in the garden overseeing everything as we speak.”

“And Leliana?” Cullen asked. 

“Sometime in the middle of the night. Arriving just as Leliana and  _ not _ as Divine,” Dorian said. 

Cullen glanced towards Dorian, confused, “What does that mean?”

“She’s taking the weekend off of being Divine while she’s here, her being here is a great secret I think,” Dorian looked pleased to know that bit of information. 

The hallway was long and wide, great windows at either end cast long stretches of sun against the plush carpet. Paintings lined the walls, scenes from the Chant of Light, intense portraits of nobles of days gone past stared judgmentally at them as they walked. It reminded him too much of the Winter Palace, and he hoped once inside his room that feeling would subside. 

“This is it,” Dorian gestured, stepping to one side while Cullen turned the decorated doorknob. The metal was cool under his hand, the design pressing roughly against his fingers. The room was far more simple than he would have expected from the rest of the house. The only furniture in the room was practical. There was a bed that was still on the wrong side of too luxurious for his needs, there was a couch, and a desk. Hanging on the wardrobe in the corner was what he assumed he was expected to wear. 

It was reminiscent of the armor he used to wear, the jacket was a deep red with gold trim. He sighed, “They really thought of everything didn’t they?”

Dorian smirked, “Did you bring anything nearly as dressy as that?”

“No,” Cullen admitted sheepishly. 

“Hold on for a moment,” Dorian said, “I have something for you. I’ll be right back.”

Cullen set his and Mara’s bags down, and walked over to the clothing. It was a lush velvet, and it was much finer than anything he’d worn since the Winter Palace. He struggled to shake the memories of that place, despite this trip being nothing like that. His friends were all here, and while there would be nobles, it was not the same. 

The room was sparsely decorated, a few landscapes, but nothing else. It was almost calming, he thought as he glanced out of the window. His window overlooked the fields, a small pond and the rolling hills to the north. He rubbed the tension from the back of his neck as Dorian returned, a small parcel in hand. 

“Here,” Dorian handed it to him. 

Cullen took the small package, opening it up carefully. Inside was a small blue crystal, he rolled it around in his hand and glanced up to Dorian. 

“It’s a communication crystal of my own making. I know you’re not much one for magic, but I thought perhaps this would be alright. I have one too, we can speak to one another instead of exchanging the letters it takes you so long to respond to,” Dorian said. 

Cullen went to speak, but Dorian kept talking, “There’s hardly anyone worth my time to play back home, and I’m afraid I’ll lose my edge.”

“All this for chess skills?” Cullen asked with a smile. 

Dorian glared at him, “Yes. Now let’s go.”

***

The garden was full of pungent flowers, many in the height of their spring blooming. Plum trees flowered in pinks and purples. It was much warmer in Ostwick than it was in South Reach, and Cullen found the humidity a bit oppressive. He’d felt the same way when he had arrived in Kirkwall, even in nearly ten years there, he never did get used to it. The garden was pleasant though, a slight breeze blew up from the harbor bringing with it just the slightest twinge of salt. Everything seemed so green, so bright and alive. 

Leliana found him and Dorian in the garden, and relieved Dorian of his three game losing streak while he went to find what Bull, Sera and Dagna might have gotten themselves up to. 

He’d gone to stand when Leliana approached, she may be his friend but she was still the Divine. She’d shook her head at him, and pulled him into a hug instead. 

“It’s good to see you, Cullen,” she smiled as she sat down. She was dressed casually, looking less like herself and more like any other person at the estate. 

“You look well,” Cullen said. 

“As do you,” she replied, blue eyes wise and guarded as ever. 

“I understand you’re not Divine this weekend,” Cullen said, moving his pawn. 

Leliana laughed, “You understand correctly, I’m here rather covertly.”

“So completely in your element,” Cullen smiled. 

She nodded, “Yes, well everyone will be looking for me to be here as Divine, they’d never look for me as Leliana. It’s a little freeing though, to just be myself again.”

“I imagine it is,” Cullen nodded, watching her move her knight. 

Leliana rested her chin on her hands, “And you? I understand you brought Mara with you. You know you never mentioned you were together in your letters. I had to find out from Cassandra.”

He looked at her incredulously, had he never mentioned it to her? He hadn’t meant not to, most of his letters just revolved around the estate and the templars, not his love life.

“Sorry,” Cullen said, and he meant it.  

Leliana shook her head, “Don’t be, it was clear you had feelings for her in the way you wrote about her. When I told you to find Mara I had hoped you two would get along well, I hadn’t really considered anything beyond that. But I am quite happy for you. You deserve happiness.”

Cullen felt his throat tighten, but managed a hoarse, “Thank you.”

“The clinic is doing well then, even in your absence?” she asked. He studied the board, realizing a piece of his was missing from where it had been a moment ago. 

“Quite well, Ser Barris and my family are ensuring that while we are away,” Cullen said, leaning back to study her. 

“I am glad, you have plenty of revenue?” 

“Plenty, mostly do to you. Did you take my bishop from the board?” 

Leliana looked somewhat scandalized, “Are you accusing the Divine of cheating, Commander?”

He rested his chin on his hands, looking back at the board, and then up to her, “Yes.”

“I’m surprised, I thought you were a man of faith,” Leliana teased. 

“It’s no matter, I’ll win anyway,” he replied. 

She rolled her eyes, “If you say so.”

He won that one, barely, and was on track to win the next one too when Mara wandered into the garden, glancing around and looking a little lost. He felt a bit of guilt in abandoning her to Vivienne. Cassandra was with her, but he still felt bad. Once she saw him she looked a little relieved and made her way over to him and Leliana. 

Leliana beamed at her as she approached, “Mara!”

Mara smiled politely, it took a moment for her to understand who was speaking to her. “Oh, your…” she seemed to be searching for the correct way to address her, “holiness?”

Leliana laughed, “No formalities this weekend. It is good to see you again.”

Mara’s shoulders relaxed, “And you as well. We’d only met the one time, I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“I have a very good memory,” Leliana said simply, turning her attention back to the board.

Cullen made sure to keep an eye on Leliana as he spoke to Mara, just in case she tried to take advantage of the distraction, “How was everything with Vivienne?”

“It was very long,” Mara sighed.

Leliana glanced up to Mara, “Oh no, I hope she let you rest for a moment beforehand.”

Mara shook her head. 

“Well, the wedding is the day after tomorrow and with all the festivities, she’d need to work on it immediately. Do tell me she showed you some fantastic shoes!” Leliana said. Her voice and tone didn’t hold any sort of annoyance or disapproval of Vivienne as he had heard in the past. 

He knew that they did not see eye to eye about the reforms Leliana had made and Vivienne was not one to hide her disapproval. She’d risen up with her own Circle, in direct defiance of Leliana’s disbanding of them. For at least appearances sake they seemed to get along. 

Mara nodded, “There were a lot of shoes I had no idea how to walk in, much to Vivienne’s disappointment.”

“But she found you a pretty dress?” Leliana asked knowingly. 

“Yes.”

Leliana glared across the garden to a young woman who was not-subtly trying to get her attention. She sighed, “I think my attendant is trying to get my attention.”

Cullen smiled, “Does that mean your forfeit?”

Leliana glared, “I expect a rematch.”

He was completely fine with that, “By all means.”

Leliana went to meet her attendant, giving Mara a quick nod. Mara sank down into her vacated chair, looking suddenly tired. 

They were in a secluded area of the garden, a place Dorian had chosen for the ability to speak freely and not worry about eavesdroppers. Mara played with one of the pieces of his Leliana had captured and then lined up in a neat display behind hers. He wasn’t sure how to bring up what had happened earlier. 

“Are you really alright?” he asked. It was as good a lead in as any. 

Mara lifted her gaze to his, “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.”

He leaned back into his chair, “I’m fine.”

Mara raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him. 

He took a deep breath and shrugged, “I’m sure we’ll deal with it at some point.”

She nodded, “You seem happy to be with everyone.”

He found himself smiling, “I am. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed them.”

“Good. I’m glad we came,” she said at last. 

She wasn’t looking at him and so he pressed, “You’re sure?”

“Everyone is so nice and welcoming, it feels a little overwhelming,” Mara admitted, he was almost sure he saw a hint of sadness there. 

“In a good way?” he asked. 

She set her chin in her hand and toyed with a chess piece with the other, “I think so.”

***

Lorraine found him after dinner. Dorian, Bull and Varric were telling Mara stories from their Inquisition days and he gave Mara’s hand a quick squeeze before following Lorraine to the library. With all of the visitors he was surprised to find it empty. Lorraine seemed to do be doing everything in her power to separate all of the nobles from her inner circle, though there was no escaping all of them. 

“Want a drink?” Lorraine asked walking over to a small cart that held several bottles of dark liquids. 

“Please,” he replied, still standing awkwardly near the closed door. The room was dark, a few sconces lit, but mostly it felt a little bit gloomy. Volumes of books caught the little bit of light, reflecting it back in deep reds and browns. 

Lorraine didn’t even look at him, “You can sit you know.”

“Uh, do you need help?” he asked as he moved to an overstuffed chair. 

“I’d prefer not,” she replied cooly. 

She handed him a glass of amber liquid. He took it from her gratefully, and she returned to the cart, picking up her drink and sitting down on the couch opposite him. She took a drink from her wine glass, and they sat in silence. Cullen wasn’t sure what to say, if he wanted to say anything. 

She spoke first, “I apologize for my greeting this morning, there are just so many things that need my attention, I admit I’m feeling a little run down.”

She was lying, but he wasn’t going to call her on it. “It’s no problem.”

“I knew you’d understand. Mara seems a good sort, like she fits in with everyone,” Lorraine said as she sipped her wine. 

“I’ve been wanting her to meet everyone for a while now,” Cullen said, watching Lorraine’s gray eyes, trying to read her. 

“I was surprised to see her here,” Lorraine said unable to conceal the bit of hurt as she spoke. Her neutral mask shifted back into place.  

“Were you?” Cullen asked, taking a drink. 

Lorraine’s gray eyes went ice cold, “Yes.”

“You seemed upset,” Cullen challenged her. 

Lorraine didn’t react, “You’re mistaken.” That’s how he knew he was right. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, considering if it was really wise to continue their conversation in this vein. He was happy for Lorraine, had let go of her a long time ago. Why couldn’t she do the same for him?

He pressed her, “You’re unhappy I’ve moved on.”

“Is that what Dorian thinks, or what you think?” Lorraine asked, eyes narrowed. 

“I stopped missing you a long time ago. You moved on. Can’t you just be happy?”

Her jaw clenched, “I am happy.”

“Then what is the point of being upset with me?” Cullen asked. 

“I invited you to my wedding, not the woman you’re using to warm your bed,” Lorraine spat. 

“I’m quite sure the invitation said to bring anyone I wished,” Cullen replied. 

“It did, and I thought you’d bring your brother or sister or something. Not the Hero of South Reach, the vanquisher of Samson.” Her words had a raw, bitter edge to them, she was hanging on tightly in order to control her temper, and Cullen was in danger of losing his. 

Edmund entered the library with an easy smile, “Here you are. I had wondered where you’d gotten yourself off to. Hello Cullen, Lorraine said you’d arrived earlier today.”

Lorraine turned to greet him, eyes brightening at his presence. The way she looked at Edmund was different than he’d ever seen her look at anyone. It was as poignant that night as when Edmund first arrived at Skyhold. 

Cullen went to stand, “I was just leaving actually.”

“Not on my account I hope,” Edmund said as he poured himself a drink. 

Lorraine glared in Cullen’s direction, “Oh yes, go, enjoy your evening.” 

Edmund sighed, “Have you two been digging up the past?”

Cullen ran a hand down his face, “Apparently. If you want us to leave Lorraine, we will. Just say the word, we have other business here beyond your wedding.”

Edmund sat on the arm of the couch next to Lorraine, looking to her expectantly. Lorraine’s gray eyes were flat when she replied, “Do what you want, doesn’t matter to me.”

Cullen nodded to Edmund and then stalked out of the library. He heard Edmund say something to Lorraine and he followed Cullen out. 

“Cullen, wait,” Edmund said quietly. 

Cullen turned. Edmund looked supremely sorry as he approached him, “I….things are quite complicated between all of us aren’t they?”

Cullen wasn’t sure what to say, but he agreed, “Yes.”

“Lorraine is happy you’re here, she is. It’s just, I don’t know if she expected you to ever move on. That’s her problem, not yours. I hope you know that,” Edmund said. Edmund had always been kind, understanding. When Cullen first met him it had made him incredibly difficult to hate, and Edmund  worked to make sure that he and Cullen at the very least got along. He knew Edmund regretted the way Lorraine had handled things, hadn’t been aware that Cullen’s and Lorraine’s relationship was anything more than a rumor.

“I know,” Cullen said finally. 

“It’s good for her to not get what she wants sometimes,” Edmund said simply. 

Cullen didn’t say anything. He always wanted to hate Edmund, and yet here he was, as usual being too nice and understanding. 

“It is good to see you,” Edmund smiled, “I’m so happy you’re happy.”

“Thank you,” Cullen managed. 

Edmund gave him a quick nod before turning back to the library to go be with his fiancee. Cullen knew he loved Mara, had been worried their entire trip that being around Lorraine would bring up all those old feelings it had taken so long for him to work through, but as he watched Edmund disappear through the library door, he found he wasn’t the least bit envious of him. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to be with Lorraine any longer. The realization was freeing. 

He went back to the sitting room where he’d left Mara, she was still there laughing and listening to one of Varric’s stories, probably about something stupid he’d done. Her eyes were bright, cheeks flushed with laughter. When Bull noticed Cullen’s presence he moved to let him sit next to her, and Cullen took the seat gladly. He wrapped his arm around her and she melted back into him, and he smiled, despite everything, he didn’t want to be anywhere else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the update! Thank you so much for reading! You folks are so wonderful and after every chapter posting I just feel so wonderful. All of the support really keeps me writing. You're all the best. <3


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara spends more time getting to know everyone. It brings up questions and an unexpected conversation. NSFW.

Mara was sufficiently overwhelmed. She tried not to be, but it was difficult. Everyone had been so welcoming and kind and happy she was there. Well almost everyone. She hadn’t been that surprised that Lorraine wasn’t pleased to see her, but she had been surprised by the obviousness of it. It seemed that the others were just as surprised and Cassandra seemed particularly annoyed 

when Vivienne had led them away from the rest of the group. 

_ “I brought a dress,” she said, sure that Vivienne wouldn’t care.  _

_ “Oh darling, did you get it in Ferelden?” Vivienne asked, voice kind but with a tinge of disdain.  _

_ Mara didn’t answer, and Vivienne seemed to pick up on the fact, “Oh dear, it’s not a slight against you. It’s just that Ferelden doesn’t boast the same sort of fashion access as Orlais. Luckily, I brought Orlais here.” _

_ Cassandra made some sort of disgusted noise and Vivienne turned to look at her, “Did you even bring a dress at all?” _

_ Cassandra glared, “I brought something wedding appropriate.” _

_ “Oh?” Vivienne asked, eyebrow raised.  _

_ Cassandra gave in quickly, “I will see what you brought.” _

_ “I’m sure you’ll find it quite superior, but don’t worry darling, I’m not going to force you into any ball gown.” _

_ Vivienne was true to her word. Despite bringing them into a room filled with beautiful clothes she never forced them into anything. There were racks of brightly colored dresses that gleamed in the bright light streaming in through the windows. There were a few that caught Mara’s eye, but they were so fine she was unsure if she was allowed to touch them.  _

_ After letting her browse Vivienne came to her side, “Is anything to your liking, my dear?” _

_ “They’re all beautiful,” Mara said, running her fingers down the length of a particularly gorgeous green dress.  _

_ “But?” Vivienne raised an eyebrow.  _

_ “I’ve never worn anything like this,” Mara admitted.  _

_ “You know why I brought all of these clothes here?” Vivienne asked.  _

_ Mara shook her head.  _

_ “Lorraine is my best friend, and I want her wedding to be perfect, right down to what each person is wearing. We took care of Cullen, but we didn’t realize he was bringing anyone. Every woman deserves to wear something that makes her feel fabulous,” Vivienne said, pulling down the green dress Mara had paused at.  _

_ “It matches your eyes,” Vivienne smiled as she held it up, “Come on, let’s try it on.” _

_ Mara followed, feeling a little foolish, but that feeling was waning.  _

_ Vivienne led her to a make-shift changing room that was little more than a closet  with a curtain draped over the entrance. At Vivienne’s behest a young woman came over and joined Mara in the room to help her into the dress.  _

_ She’d never really been dressed before and the young woman sensed that, letting her get out of her own clothing and simply helping her into the elegant gown. At least with the other woman in there she was very unlikely to accidentally ruin it. The girl remained quiet, responding only when spoken to. When Mara took her tunic off and exposed her vallaslin the young woman made a surprised sound and seemed to be trying very hard not to look at it.  _

_ Her response made Mara feel self-conscious. She had grown to accept her vallaslin as part of her body, even if it’s meaning to her had changed over the years. It was a connection to her clan, to her parents. One of the few she had left. Most of her clothing covered it up, and so she rarely had to think about people seeing it, or their reactions to it. It would have been different she supposed if she had gotten it on her face instead.  _

_ Somewhere beyond the room where she changed she could hear Vivienne and Cassandra discussing an article of clothing. Cassandra thought it was ridiculous apparently, and Vivienne scoffed, but then their voices became too quiet to make out.  _

_ Once in the dress, the young woman worked to do up the long line of buttons that spanned the back, and Mara glanced down. The dress was entirely too long for her, but it was a beautiful shade of sparkling light green. The bodice was made out of a sheer material, but there was an overlay of a beautiful leaf pattern so the dress still felt modest despite how much skin it revealed. The leaves vined up to create a slight sleeve. The dress was fitted through the waist until it flared out into a full skirt that wasn’t quite a ballgown. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn.  _

_ “You’re done,” the young woman whispered, pulling the draping back and slipping from the room.  _

_ Mara took a deep breath and walked out, holding the too long hem of the skirt up as she did. Vivienne smiled, gesturing for her to go to in front of a large mirror that leaned against the far wall. Mara did and caught sight of herself. She froze when she caught her reflection. She looked like she belonged at some fancy ball she’d only ever heard stories or read about. _

_ “It’s perfect,” Vivienne smiled.  _

_ Mara felt utterly exposed. She ran her hand along her vallaslin, “Don’t you think something with more sleeves might be better?” _

_ Vivienne shook her head, “We all wear our history on our skins, darling. Why hide something as lovely as that?” _

_ Cassandra agreed, “It is beautiful on you.” _

_ Mara avoided looking into the mirror, knowing her face was turning red, “It’s much too long.” _

_ “Oh yes. Definitely needs a hem, otherwise it fits you rather gloriously,” Vivienne said with approval in her voice.  _

_ “Slyvie, can you please mark where this should be hemmed?” Vivienne asked and the young woman hurried over, pins in hand.  _

_ “Mara’s taken care of, now Cassandra you must try yours on,” Vivienne looked to Cassandra. She huffed, but disappeared into the changing room, glaring when Vivienne suggested sending help.  _

_ Mara kept glancing at herself in the mirror, couldn’t help but notice the way the beading of the dress caught the light. She found herself more than a little excited to wear the dress, and to see Cullen’s reaction to her in it.  _

_ “I’ve heard the stories about your time in Denerim. You’re a mage?” Vivienne asked.  _

_ “I am,” Mara replied.  _

_ “You’ve never been to a Circle as far as I can tell, yet I understand you’re remarkably skilled with healing and ice magicks. Were you self taught?” she asked. _

_ “Not at all. I was trained by Keeper Deshanna,” Mara said, a little nervous about the direction of the conversation.  _

_ Vivienne looked thoughtful, “I’ve heard about the traditions of magic among the Dalish Keepers, but it’s all been third hand. Despite having traversed the continent more times than I would have liked with the Inquisition. In my experience there is nothing more dangerous than a young mage with a lack of knowledge. Which is what makes Divine Victoria’s disbanding of Circles so dangerous.” _

_ “Don’t you run a Circle?” Mara asked, confused.  _

_ Vivienne laughed, “I do, but it’s not compulsory for mages to be brought there.” _

_ “Isn’t that better? Doesn’t that mean you get the mages who are truly interested in learning and improving their abilities? I’ve come across many mages, but some could do barely more than light candles,” Mara said.  _

_ “That’s an interesting way of thinking about it,” Vivienne said, “What of you and Cullen? I’m sure he wouldn’t be particularly thrilled to have a mage child.” _

_ Mara’s face burned, “I...um...we haven’t discussed it.” Mara was sure that if they were to have a mage child Cullen would love them the same as any other child, but they hadn’t discussed children. Ever.  _

_ “Oh,” Vivienne frowned, “I’m so sorry to have pried.” _

_ “It’s alright,” Mara replied.  _

_ “You worked for the Inquisition did you not? I keep coming across people who were part of it, and it’s odd to think that our paths never crossed,” Vivienne said.  _

_ It was something Mara had been thinking about much of their trip. It was as if she had orbited slightly around all of them without ever truly knowing any of them. The Inquisitor’s inner circle was the center of many tales, but they always seemed so far off from those in the lower ranks.  _

_ “I think about it often,” Mara said.  _

_ Vivienne nodded, “I imagine you would. How often Cullen and your paths might have almost intertwined at Adamant or in the Arbor Wilds, and yet you meet somewhere like South Reach.” _

_ “Isn’t that the way with everything? It’s so easy to see the patterns afterwards,” Mara said quietly, thinking about all the signs missed with patients, how it was so easy to see afterwards that they were headed for decline.  _

_ Cassandra reappeared, clearly frustrated, “I think I need help with this thing.” _

_ Vivienne gave Mara a smile before walking towards Cassandra to see what the problem was.  _

Mara hadn’t been able to shake it, the way Vivienne had spoken with such surety about Cullen’s feelings towards having a mage child. She’d been lying awake and replaying the events of the day before for too long. It was morning, she could tell by the way the light filtered in from under the curtains of their room. Cullen still slept beside her. It was an unusual occurrence for him to sleep longer than her, he almost always woke before she did. She supposed it had to do with their traveling and how difficult the journey had been for him on the ship.  

She resolved not to wake him. It wasn’t often that they were able to sleep in as long as they wanted, that there were no pressing demands on their time. It didn’t take long, however, for him to begin stirring. He curled up around her, draping an arm over her waist and she leaned back into his embrace. 

“You’re awake?” he asked, clearly surprised.

She turned to face him, keeping him close to her, “For once I woke before you.”

“That’s because you actually slept on that void-taken ship,” he replied. 

“It was not that bad,” she smiled and stretched to press a kiss to his lips. She’d meant it to be chaste, but when her lips met his, his arms tightened around her and he groaned. She could feel his already hardening erection against her thigh as he kissed her with more urgency than he did most mornings. 

She melted against him, enjoying something familiar in a place full of unfamiliar. She ran her fingernails down his bare chest and earned a hiss from him. Rolling his hips against hers, his hand trailed lower coming to rest on her ass before pulling her leg up so that it hitched over his. 

She wanted to lose herself in him this morning, it felt like it had been weeks since their stay at the inn. Things had felt so much less complicated then. 

Cullen must have noticed her pensiveness because he broke away, “Is everything alright?” His eyes searched hers and his hand moved to her waist. 

She glanced away from his gaze, looking at her hands that rested against his chest, “Vivienne said something that has been sort of bothering me.”

His hand cupped her face, fingers trailing along her ear, “What did she say?”

She swallowed, she wasn’t sure she wanted to have this conversation. She’d been so sure of what his response would be when Vivienne talked to her, but in the hours since she’d had too much time to think, to second guess. “She said that you wouldn’t be particularly thrilled to have a mage child.”

“Oh,” he said simply. Mara’s heart sank and she went to pull away, to put some space between her and Cullen. 

He caught her with strong arms, but loose enough that if she wanted to get away she could, “Hey.” His voice was soft, gentle. 

“We haven’t really talked about that,” he admitted. 

“We haven’t,” she agreed. 

Cullen sighed, “I hadn’t brought it up. It felt a little premature and I was worried that it would be asking too much of you.”

She met his gaze then, confused, “What?”

“From what I understand if you were to have a child with me, that would mean giving up your clan. Forever,” he said quietly. 

“Oh,” she processed what he said, “It would.” Truthfully she’d never thought about it, she didn’t intend to go back to her clan, and as far as she was concerned she’d given them up a long time ago. 

The silence stretched out tight between them, pulling tightly at her chest she searched for words, to ask the questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answers to. 

Cullen spoke first, “If we did have children and they proved to be mages, they would have a wonderful mother who would train and teach them. Vivienne isn’t wrong though. There is a fear there too, though I think my feelings have changed a bit since she and I first met.”   
“You wouldn’t be upset or disappointed?” she asked. 

“They would be ours,” he said with surety, “that matters so much more.”

She could feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes, relief to know she’d been right. She shouldn’t have questioned him, not after everything they’d been through. 

“Do you want children?” she looked into his eyes. 

“Um...yes...that is...I mean not right now obviously, but someday,” his cheeks darkened. Somehow it made her love him more.  

“I would too. Someday. For now I’d rather not share you with anyone else,” she smiled, trying to lighten the heavy mood that hung over them. 

He chuckled, “I don’t want to share you either. But someday?” There was a hope in his tone that broke her heart. Knowing that he spent so long believing it would never even be a possibility for him, and now there it was, possibility. 

“Someday,” she agreed, “Now where were we?”

He slipped his hand beneath her tunic, skimming over her skin before cupping one of her breasts, she let out a low moan as he did. He smiled against her lips, “I think we were right about here.”

He rolled them both so that he was hovering over her, hips meeting hers in lazy rocking motions. She undid the tie of his sleep pants and began trying to work them off. 

“Impatient this morning?” he asked as he kissed down her neck. 

She swallowed a groan as he nipped at her collarbone, “I’m pretty sure all that conversation counts as enough foreplay this morning.”

His chuckled rumbled all the way through his chest, “You’ll hear no complaints from me.” He sat up and divested himself of his pants and smalls and pulled her smalls off as well. She sat up to pull his tunic off she had stolen to sleep him when he stopped her. “Leave it. I like it.”

She pulled him down and captured his lips once more. Despite her insistence the infernal man would not be rushed. He languidly twined their tongues together while he ran soft fingers over where he’d rucked up the tunic. His hips rolled into hers almost aligning them perfectly, but not quite. The next time he tried to tease she re-angled her hips and he slid easily inside her and his breath caught in surprise. 

“So impatient,” he said breathlessly. 

She laughed, “Tell me you mind.”

“I really don’t,” he admitted, setting a steady rhythm. Anything clever she might have said back was immediately stolen by the feel of him and the quickly building pleasure blossoming within her. Cullen seemed just as lost as she was, clutching her to him as he drove his hips into hers. 

She pushed on his chest and he rolled them both so that she straddled his hips, he leaned back on his hands as he continued to thrust up into her. She kissed him, hard, teeth clacking and tongues meeting greedily. 

He broke away, and with a low growl pulled her tunic over her head so that he could kiss a line down to her breasts, uninhibited by the fabric. She grasped his shoulders as her orgasm overtook her, trying to remain upright as the flood of pleasure made her sway. He wrapped one of his hands around her waist to steady her as he finished with a few quick strokes, head buried in her shoulder. 

They both fought to catch their breath and she cupped his face so she could look at him. He looked utterly spent, but his eyes were molten gold. “I don’t think I’ve told you today that I love you,” she said before pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you too,” he said as she pulled back. He guided them both back down to the bed, readjusting them so that she could lay her head against his chest, where she could hear the slowing of his heart.

They laid like that for awhile, legs intertwined, holding each other. Then Mara propped her chin up on his chest, running fingers through the dusting of golden hair. “I never asked, are you alright? You seemed upset last night.”

Cullen sighed, “I was...I am. I don’t know.”

“Talk to me,” she said softly. 

Cullen cupped her cheek, “Have I ever made you feel as though I am just passing time with you? That our relationship is temporary?” His eyes were earnest, lines of worry etched on his face. 

Of all the things she expected him to ask, that was not even near the top of the list. Her brow furrowed, “Well, considering we were just talking about the possibility of having children someday I assume not.” 

Cullen’s eyes narrowed at her attempt at humor. 

She became more serious, “No, never. What brought this on?”

Cullen frowned, “Lorraine insinuated that I was just using you to warm my bed, and I worried that you might think that too.”

“I never once thought that, Cullen,” she said firmly, “Did she say this last night?”

He nodded. 

“I feel like my presence has made this all so much more complicated than I ever intended it. Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” she said quietly, gaze falling to the floor. 

Cullen’s thumb ran along her cheek, “No. Lorraine will come around. This isn’t about you, the problem lies with her. But is it wrong of me to be so bothered over this? I just hate that things are the way they are.”

“I think that’s natural,” she replied, “You were friends too.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here,” he said, “The wedding is tomorrow, then we leave the next day.”

She turned and kissed his palm, “I know.”

***

That afternoon Dorian had pulled Cullen away for another chess match in the garden. Mara hadn’t known him long, but she suspected that Dorian had missed Cullen more than he was willing to say. She didn’t mind, Cassandra had invited her into the library to peruse the book selection and Mara couldn’t complain. 

She’d always been in love with books. Something made all the more complicated because she was never allowed to have many. Books were heavy and that meant they didn’t move very well, and when one spent their life moving one couldn’t keep much. She’d discovered that when she was young, her parents had let her learn to read Common from Al’aniel. He had been an older elf who had traveled Thedas in his youth before returning to the clan. He had lots of books, and Mara had been transfixed from the first moment she’d laid eyes on them. Even once she didn’t need his help with reading, she still went to visit him every time she came across a new book. He held the same reverence for them as she did, she could tell in the way he handled each and every book with careful hands, as if they held vast treasures within their pages. Al’aniel had been the only one she knew who loved books as much as she did. That was until she met Cullen.  

She’d acquired a lot more books since she was young, especially since she’d taken up residence at the estate, but she’d never seen anything quite like the library at the Dormer Estate. It was a large room with high ceilings. Bookshelves ran from floor to ceiling and on one side there was a spiral staircase to an upper level, to reach the books far above them. There were large windows along one wall, and they let in enough light that lighting candles or the sconces was unnecessary. 

Mara ran her hand along the tapestried couch, the feel of the fabric was soft beneath her fingers as she looked at all the books on the shelf behind it. Cassandra was already curled up on one of the couches with a book, but Mara had contented herself with just simply looking at all there was to see. 

She was still looking through all of the books when Edmund entered the library. He was handsome, with a kind face. His eyes were a deep hazel color, and when he smiled he gave off the impression that he was truly happy to be in your company. Even though Mara knew Cullen had every reason to hate the man, he’d never said a bad word about him. 

“Mara isn’t it?” he asked, approaching her. His brown hair was shorter than was the style, and despite the finery she’d seen him in before he was wearing well worn riding clothes, bits of mud and dirt were smeared on one shoulder and Mara was sure probably on his back. 

She felt a little uneasy despite the calm air he had, “Yes.”

“We were introduced very briefly, it’s good to see you. Do you think I might have a word with you, in private?” Edmund asked, voice serious. 

Mara was a little put off, “Uh, sure.”

He smiled, and that set her more at ease. She followed him out of the library and down to the next door which revealed a lavish sitting room. He sat down on one of the plush chairs and invited her to do the same. He’d left the door just slightly open, probably to make her feel more comfortable. 

“Mara,” he began, “I know our relation to each other is a tad awkward, and I can’t imagine what you’re feeling being here. I know that my fiance has not made you feel welcome here, and for that you have my sincerest apologies.” 

He leaned forward as he spoke, and Mara got the impression he was picking his words very carefully. He watched her with a calculating gaze, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction to every word. 

She twisted her hands together, “I appreciate that. I never meant to make things more awkward, I just came because Cullen asked me to.”

“I’m so glad you did, and that Cullen has found someone who clearly cares enough for him to come all the way to Ostwick to his ex-lover’s wedding,” Edmund smiled. 

She laughed, it did sound a little ridiculous. 

“I didn’t know about Cullen when I began writing to Lorraine. She made it sound as if she was completely unattached. There were rumors of course, but one can hardly put stock in those. Still, Cullen and I have always been able to get along. I rather hope that despite all of this unpleasantness between them, that you and I can be friends,” Edmund said earnestly. He was gripping the edge of his chair tightly, holding onto it as if the swirl of the wooden armrest might unravel if he let go.  

She was a little taken aback, “Why? I’m nothing to you. I’m just some elf who came along with an acquaintance to your wedding, who you will likely never cross paths with again.”

He blinked once, clearly he had not expected her reaction. He rallied quickly, voice firm, but kind, “You’re a guest in my home, it matters to me that you feel welcome and that you know I don’t share Lorraine’s feelings.”

He was so nice it was off-putting, but she could sense this was important to him. He was a very principled person, had decided on a way of doing things and wouldn’t be deterred. It reminded her a lot of Cullen.  

“We can be friends,” Mara replied. 

There was the slightest hint of relief that crossed over his face, “I’m glad. Maker, Cullen is lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky to have each other,” she corrected. 

“So you are,” he nodded, “I’m confident Lorraine and Cullen will sort everything out. Though I’m apparently not allowed to see my fiance until tomorrow, but we did have a long chat last night. I have faith.”

“Not allowed to see the bride until the wedding?” Mara asked politely. 

He sighed, “Apparently tradition dictates it, according to Josephine. That woman has run my life for the past month. I’m going to be quite ready to go back to her being our friend and not our wedding planner.”

Mara laughed, “Yes, when I met her she did seem a bit intense.”

“You have no idea,” Edmund laughed, “I should probably wash up though and let you get back to your earlier activities.”

“I’m glad we talked,” Mara said honestly, feeling a little relieved to have the air cleared with at least Edmund. 

“Me too, and if you need anything while you’re here, don’t hesitate to ask,” Edmund smiled. She gave him a nod and left him in the sitting room. 

She hadn’t even made it back to the library when she heard a booming voice, “Mara!” 

She turned to find Bull approaching her, “I was just looking for you. There’s something you’ve gotta see.”

“What?” she asked. 

“Hard to explain, get Cassandra too,” he smiled, a glint in his eye. 

Mara had been initially intimidated by the giant Qunari, but after he’d made several good natured jabs at Cullen’s expense she’d decided to just go ahead and like him. She got Cassandra to come, even though she’d rolled her eyes at Bull and said it better be worth it because she was just getting to the good part of her book. 

When they walked into the bright sunlight it was already apparent that there was a mass of chaos out in the area between the buildings of the estate. People were gathered, but it was hard to see what exactly was going on. 

Bull laughed, “Hurry, I don’t know how long Buttercup can keep this up.”

A part of the garden had been specifically set up for the post-wedding festivities, large tables and tents were standing among the rose bushes and the flowering fruit trees. Inside the tent was a large swarm of bees. Josephine stood without fear continuing to try to set up while all of her helpers ran away in fear. 

Somehow the bees seemed to be following directions from Sera who crouched with Dagna behind a bush. She had something in her hands, it looked like a rune. As she moved it around the swarm of bees followed like great dark, buzzing cloud. 

Mara noticed Cullen and Dorian a little ways off, watching the whole affair. They were both grinning and were watching Sera and Josephine intently. 

Despite being utterly abandoned in the tent, Josephine didn’t even flinch as the swarm flew closer to her. She stood tall and glared at the approaching horde. 

“Sera, remove these bees this moment or I will have you removed,” Josephine threatened loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“Damn,” Bull said under his breath, “She’s not even scared.”

Mara noticed even Leliana stood in the shadows giggling. The whole display was rather funny, that was until suddenly the swarm of bees headed their direction. 

“Run away!” Bull said in a ridiculously high pitched voice as he sprinted in the other direction. His feet kicked up dust as he rushed away, and Mara and Cassandra ran to the doorway of the estate, both laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

The swarm flew past them and down the road, slowly dissipating the further away they flew. Mara wondered where on earth Sera had managed to get that many bees.  

She jumped when she realized Cole stood right beside her, a smile on his face, “It’s certainly nice to have everyone back together again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And next up is the wedding! Thanks so much for reading along, I appreciate you folks all so much.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and cheery and warm. It was the perfect spring day, even the clouds the skittered in white runs across the blue sky didn’t form into rain that was so common this time of year. 

Cullen had awoken before Mara, he was restless and didn’t want to stay in the room. So he went for a walk, leaving a note on his pillow to tell her where he’d gone. He wanted to get outside, despite his time spent in the gardens at the estate he felt cooped up, almost suffocatingly so. He missed the wildness of Ferelden, the lofty peaks of South Reach that circled the valley. So he walked down the quiet farm roads, the only sounds the birds above the and swish of the short wheat stalks in the breeze.

It gave him time to think, time to consider what to do about Lorraine. But the further he went, he didn’t have any more ideas than when he started. Wasn’t sure he really wanted to do anything about her, but he knew that as soon as he left this estate with Mara, he’d regret not ending on good terms. At least Edmund was reasonable. 

Mara had told him about how he’d met with her the day before, had been off-puttingly kind. She’d been vaguely suspicious of how nice he’d been, and he had tried to comfort her by explaining that everyone always felt that way where Edmund was concerned. 

Despite missing South Reach and all of the drama that had followed their arrival in Ostwick, Cullen found himself somewhat reluctant to leave. It had been it’s own sort of wonderful, being with his friends from the Inquisition. He’d missed them all more than he knew how to say, and wondered when they might all be able to be together again. Dorian’s gift helped, but there was still a part of him that ached every time he thought about leaving. 

He retraced his steps, heading back to the the estate. Breakfast was in full swing. Mara sat with Bull, Sera and the Chargers. The group was rowdy, even for how early it was in the morning. Krem was talking to Mara, who listened intently, but he caught her eye as he sat down in an empty chair by Varric and offered her a smile. Varric, quill in hand, was scratching away a piece of parchment while the food in front of him grew cold. 

“Are you putting this all down for another novel?” Cullen asked. 

Varric sighed, “No Curly, Viscount business. Doesn’t ever seem to stop.”

“How is Kirkwall?” Cullen asked before digging into his own food of fluffy waffles and bacon. 

“Not as big of a mess as when you last saw it, but not quite as stable as it could be. So basically it’s the same shithole it’s always been,” Varric replied. Cullen knew that for all that Varric might complain about Kirkwall he loved it, would fight to the death for it.

Cullen’s mouth was still too full of food to respond, but Varric continued, “You know, you and Mara should come visit sometime. The Viscount’s mansion in Hightown has far too many rooms that go unused.”

Cullen had zero desire to ever return to Kirkwall, much less take Mara there. He quickly changed the subject after nodding politely, “You see Hawke often?”

Varric chuckled, “Whenever she’s not with Fenris freeing slaves or out on the sea with a certain pirate.”

“So she’s doing well?” Cullen asked. 

“Yeah, and she deserves it,” Varric smiled, “Lorraine too for that matter, though she’d probably kill me for saying it.”

If anyone ever suggested Lorraine was not fit for anything she raged, she would hate to be thought about as not being able to fight day to day. But Cullen had to agree, she deserved a quiet happy life. They all did. 

“She really would,” Cullen replied. 

Varric put his quill down, giving him a sidelong glance, “I heard that there’s been some issues.”

Cullen drank from his glass of orange juice before replying, “There are always issues.”

“It’s true, but you’re alright?” Varric looked uncharacteristically concerned. 

Cullen nodded, “I am.”

Varric smiled, “I owe you an ‘I told you so’.”

“You do?”

“Remember years ago in your tower, with Dorian, Sera, and Bull? I told you it would get better?”

Cullen remembered. Remembered those first hours after Lorraine ended things. He’d been lucky to have such good friends, though he hadn’t been able to see it at the time. 

Varric had waited for Cullen to remember, then he smiled, “Told you so.”

Cullen laughed and glanced down the table to Mara, “You were right.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cullen could see a messenger standing near the door, doing his best to try and catch Varric’s attention, while Varric seemed to be doing his best to keep the messenger waiting. 

“You going to do anything about that?” Cullen asked. 

Varric sighed as he gathered his things, “Five minutes peace is all I want, but he can’t even give me that.” He shook his head and Cullen was sure as he left the table he could hear him swearing under his breath. 

Varric’s leaving left Cullen, alone, or at least mostly alone at the table. Mara was still laughing and joking with the Chargers. He wondered for a moment what it would have been like for her to have been a part of this inner circle that she fit so seamlessly into. He was always a little taken aback at how they’d orbited each other’s lives without actually meeting. He wondered how close they’d come to crossing paths, completely oblivious to what they would mean to each other. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that she was standing beside him, “I was going to head upstairs and get ready. Did you have a good walk?”

“I did. I’ll be upstairs in a moment,” he promised. 

She gave him a smile as he pressed a kiss to her hand, before she disappeared. He finished his food while listening to Bull’s story of his dramatic rescue of Dorian and then he slipped upstairs. Mara was seated at the simple vanity outside the bathroom. Her hair was carefully pinned back. It had grown longer since they’d met. He liked it, liked running his fingers through those silken tresses. 

He came up behind her, bending to kiss her neck, “You look lovely.”

She smiled, “I’m not even ready yet.”

“It’s still true,” he said as he walked to the his clothing that hung on the dresser. Last night, Mara’s dress had arrived in a simple black bag that hung next to his clothes. 

He took it down and draped it over the already made bed. He dressed with a military efficiency he’d never been able to quite shake, putting on the fine clothes that had been picked for him. He tried to mind them dressing him up, but the clothes fit well, and then he noticed Mara’s admiring gaze on him. 

“Like what you see?” he teased. 

She laughed, “Always.”

He chuckled, “Good.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but her eyes were still bright. Maker, he loved her. 

She picked up her dress bag and disappeared into the washroom to change. He’d just pulled his boots on when she emerged. At the sight of her, his heart stopped and then started up again thunderously. She looked incredible. Her dress was the same green as her eyes, making them seem even brighter. The dress had some sort of green overlay in a leaf pattern that vined out into a small cap sleeve. The blue swirls of her vallaslin almost looked like they were a purposeful part of the dress. 

And oh Maker. He realized it was just bare skin under the green leaf overlay. 

“Maker’s breath,” he managed. 

She gave him a mischievous smile, “Like what you see?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he simply crossed the room and closed the space between them and kissed her. She laughed against his lips while he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her to him. 

She put her hands on his chest, pushing back, “If we carry on like this we won’t make it to the ceremony.”

“Who cares about the ceremony?” he practically growled as he kissed her neck. 

“You do,” she laughed. 

He moved up to her ear, “We go, but I get to help you out of this dress tonight.”

She chuckled breathlessly, “Deal.”

They walked together, hand in hand, from the house to the small Chantry that was on the far end of the property. The ceremony would take place there, then the rest of the festivities would be in the garden. They were almost to the line of people that had bottlenecked to get into the building when Josie hurried up to them. 

“We need a healer,” Josie said, voice colored with concern.

***

Cullen and Mara followed Josie to the back of the Chantry, to a small door that lead into rooms off the main chapel. Josie hadn’t said who needed a healer, and Mara hadn’t asked, but he was beginning to suspect it was Lorraine. Josie led them into the room and Cullen immediately felt as though he shouldn’t have followed. 

Lorraine lay in a pile of white upon the ground, face pale. The wedding gown was as fine as it was voluminous, the skirts puffing up around where she sat. But she looked absolutely ill as she rested her head against the seat of a high backed chair against the wall. Make-up littered a vanity, utterly abandoned, and Cullen could have sworn he could hear the bustle of people entering the chapel. 

Mara paused, clearly unsure. Lorraine looked up at her, “Great. Josie managed to find the only healer on the whole property I didn’t want to see. Go ahead then, do what you must.” Josie’s eyes flashed for a moment and he wondered if the ambassador had purposefully found Mara and not just the first healer she could.

Mara’s face was a cold sheet of endurance as she knelt down next to Lorraine, “May I see your hand?”

Lorraine offered her hand, and then Cullen felt the pull of magic in the room as Mara worked. The feel of her magic had become familiar, almost comforting. When she pulled away, she looked surprised. 

“I can give you something for the nausea, but it’s not a permanent fix,” Mara said quietly. 

Lorraine glared at her, “Why not?”

Mara gave her a significant look, but Lorraine seemed to be missing whatever Mara was trying to silently communicate to her. 

“Congratulations,” Mara smiled, “Best estimations, I’d say you’re almost four weeks along.” 

Lorraine froze, “That’s impossible.”

Mara gave her a look and Lorraine shook her head, “Well not  _ impossible _ , but you’re sure?”

Mara nodded, “Yes.”

Lorraine looked to Josie, who was looking just as shocked as Cullen felt, “Get Edmund.”

Josie shook her head, “But-”

Lorraine cut her off, “I need to see my fiance, now!”

Josie disappeared from the room while Mara made a list of herbs that Lorraine could use. Lorraine had fallen into a quiet level of shock, hands resting on her abdomen. They were all silent, Cullen wished he wasn’t in the room, looking everywhere but at Lorraine. He couldn’t quite figure out how he felt. He wasn’t upset, or jealous, but there was a part of his heart that had sunk at the news. 

“Thank you,” Lorraine said quietly. Those words pulled him out of his thoughts. 

Mara, his beautiful, perfect, compassionate Mara, who had no reason to be nice to this woman sitting on the ground smiled, “You’re welcome. Let’s get you off the floor before you fiance gets here.” Mara helped Lorraine into a chair. Already some color had returned to her face, whatever Mara had done had helped. 

There was a quiet knock at the door, and Cullen opened it to find Edmund, looking more than a little nervous. He looked relieved as soon as he saw Lorraine, and Mara took Cullen’s arm to lead him out, “Let me know if you need anything.”

Mara pulled him out of the room and the door shut with a snap. She glanced up to him with a smile, “Well that’s quite the surprise.”

Cullen didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded. Mara looked at him with worried eyes, “Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. 

She rested a hand on his cheek, “Talk to me.”

“I’m happy for her, I am. I don’t know why I feeling what I am,” he admitted. 

Mara nodded, “It’s okay.”

“You know I love you,” he whispered. 

She kissed his cheek, “I never questioned it.”

Josie approached them, “You should find your seats.”

Music from the chapel echoed into the small hallway where they stood. He took Mara’s hand and the followed the hallway to a dark wooden door. It opened up to a small alcove on the side of the chapel within the Chantry building. Dorian caught his eye, it was clear he’d been saving them seats on the pew he shared with Bull and the Chargers. 

The music floated through the air, drifting up towards the ceiling easily, romantically, while the last of the guests filtered in. The pews were packed, people sat tight, elbow to elbow. Cullen had thrown his arm out around Mara’s shoulders in order to take up as little space possible, she leaned against him and he could smell the lingering scent of the embrium shampoo she favored. 

Cassandra, Varric, Cole, Maryden, Vivienne, Sera, and Dagna sat on the pew in front of them, and Cassandra gave him a quick scowl as if to ask where they’d been. 

The other side of the aisle was packed with Edmund’s remaining family. His mother, who Cullen had only seen in passing and had never spoken to, sat with white handkerchief in hand, weeping delicately into it. After a few moments, Edmund appeared from a side door and approached the altar the Revered Mother stood behind. 

But another glance at the woman told him that it wasn’t the Revered Mother, it was Leliana, who had put back on the mantle of Divine once more. There were some whispers from the gathered crowd, but mostly it seemed as though most hadn’t noticed or simply didn’t care. She wore simple robes, not those denoting of her status, but Cullen would recognize her anywhere. She gave him a soft smile as their eyes met. 

Edmund’s back was to them all, another man stood next to him, but he was facing the crowd, grinning. Dorian had taken to quietly narrating everything to Mara once he found out this was her first non-Dalish wedding. 

“The man with him is Alonso, he’s from Antiva. A distant cousin of Josie’s I think. They’ve been best friends since they were young. He’s what’s called the best man,” Dorian explained in a quiet whisper. 

The music suddenly grew louder, more purposeful and Dorian smiled, “It’s starting.”

Two little girls entered the chapel, tossing pink and red flower petals from their little baskets as they meandered up the aisle. Josephine entered next, in a pale pink gown that hugged every curve of her body. Her hair was loose, cascading in waves down her back. Cullen realized he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Josie let her hair down. 

Then the music changed, shifting into something more formal. Cullen recognized the wedding march, and everyone stood. Lorraine entered the chapel, seeming to glow. Her dark hair had been put fixed up into an elegant bun. She carried her large bouquet in her hand, and her veil slid out behind her as she walked. 

Now that she wasn’t on the ground amongst the piles of her skirt he realized that the dress was reserved, simple even despite the voluminous skirt. It suited her. Cullen glanced to Edmund and saw that he had eyes only for his bride. He looked as if he was the happiest man in all of Thedas. He beamed with happiness and seemed to be communicating silently with Lorraine as she approached. Cullen looked down to Mara, who stood beside him, eyes on the happy couple, and he wondered what she would look like in a wedding dress. If she wanted to get married. If she wanted to marry him. 

He realized then what he’d been feeling when Mara had told Lorraine she was pregnant, it was longing. There were things he wanted, things he’d scarcely hoped to dream might come true. He had Mara there with him, wonderful and radiant, and he wanted a future with her. He didn’t care when it occurred, but he needed to know that she wanted the same things. He promised himself there in the Chantry as he looked up at the statue of Andraste that stood tall behind the altar, that he’d ask once they were home, once he could show her what he’d been working on back in South Reach. 

The congregation sat as the music faded away. Lorraine handed her bouquet to Josephine and placed her hand in Edmund’s. There might as well have not been anyone in the Chantry at all, for Cullen believed they would have hardly cared. 

***

As the festivities grew towards evening, dancing began in the garden as the sunset over the lovely clear sky. The white tents they’d dined under after the ceremony let breezes whip in and out, but as it darkened the need for the shade of the tents disappeared. They’d been at a table with Cassandra, Sera, and Dagna and strangely, Alonso who had taken a special interest in Cassandra, much to her chagrin. It probably had something to do with the satin suit she wore, it was a deep plum color, nearly black. It was sleeveless, showing off her powerful arms, and wicket boots peeked out of the loose trousers. Vivienne had delivered for more than just Mara. 

After Alonso managed to convince Cassandra to join him on the dance floor, Cullen pulled Mara out to it too, leading her in a careful waltz. He did his best to avoid stepping on her dress and toes, and he wasn’t sure he was really moving in time with the music, but Mara didn’t seem to care. 

The nobles danced as well, but Cullen noticed more the familiar faces of his friends. Cole and Maryden twirled slowly out of the way, Dorian and Bull held to one another and Sera and Dagna smiled and laughed as they danced happily, ignoring the music completely. 

Cullen held Mara’s hand over his heart as they slowly turned, it was a beautiful night, the stars winked to life above them. It was all Cullen could do not to kiss her then and there on the dance floor. 

Lorraine and Edmund approached them, and with sincere kindness Lorraine asked if she could cut in, “Mara, do you mind if I borrow Cullen for a moment?” Mara looked to him, as if silently asking for permission, he gave her a slight nod. 

Mara smiled as Edmund offered her his arm. She took it, as Cullen let Lorraine move into the circle of his arms. She rested the stump of her arm on his while he held her other hand. 

“Congratulations on everything,” Cullen said softly. 

Lorraine shook her head, shadows moving in her eyes that had no place on a day as happy as this, “I’m afraid, truly knee-buckling afraid. I don’t think I’m going to be a very good mother. But at least they’ll have a good father.”

“You don’t? Cullen asked, surprised. Lorraine had never seemed afraid of anything. Not of Corypheus, not of dragons, not of her own death, but in the face of motherhood she was. He was a little surprised at her forthrightness. 

“Oh Cullen, you and I both know I’m not a very good person. I may have saved the world, but it means very little,” she admitted. 

He didn’t know what to say. Finally he managed, “Despite everything, I never thought you were a bad person.”

She smiled sadly, “You were always too generous with me.”

He didn’t respond, eyes traveling to where Mara danced with Edmund, happy and cheerful. 

“She makes you so happy. You never looked at me the way you look at her. I think that’s what hurt, that even if we hadn’t fallen apart, you would have found her and you would have loved her. Someday you would have found her,” Lorraine said words quiet, more honest than he’d hear from her in a long time. 

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, giving her a hard look. 

She didn’t flinch back from him, held her ground, “Because Edmund reminded me that I owe you more than anger. That I owe you an explanation for why I was upset.”

“You have Edmund, why be upset?” 

“Because I’m a selfish person. Mara comes here and everyone loves her, so easily, and without restraint. Hell, sometimes I wonder if we hadn’t been through so much if our friends would still care about me,” she paused, as if she had shared too much. More than she had wanted to. “But, I am happy for you. I always wanted you happy.”

Cullen stared into her cool gray-blue eyes, “I’m happy you have Edmund.”

“Me too. Maker knows I don’t deserve him, and only He knows why he puts up with me. But he makes me want to be better, kinder,” she admitted. 

“I’m glad.”

Lorraine smiled at him, “Go home and be happy. Don’t hold yourself back from that. You deserve to be happy.” 

He let her go, “So do you.”

“Hawke told me heroes don’t get happy endings,” she shrugged, “maybe I’ll prove them wrong.”

She waded through the dancefloor back to her husband, pausing in front of Mara. Lorraine gave her a nod. It seemed to him that something had been silently communicated between the two women, but he didn’t care. He took her back into his arms, and they swayed together. 

“All handled?” she asked. 

Cullen nodded, “I think so.” It felt as if a load had been lifted off his shoulders, that after a long journey he had finally set a heavy pack down, and moved along without it. 

He stayed like that for a long while, holding her in the darkening night. He felt her press a kiss to his shoulder through his jacket before she whispered in his ear, “Didn’t you say something earlier about getting me out of this dress?”

He kissed her right there on the dance floor, before replying with a smirk, “I believe I did.” Then Mara grabbed a bottle of champagne and they slipped back to their room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this update ready to go since Monday, but held onto it because it was N7 day...and then there was the election and the week turned really shitty really fast and it never quite felt right. But I think we need fluff and happiness now more than ever. Thanks so much for reading, just a few more chapters left! <3


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Mara say goodbye and then make one last stop before Wycome.

The group was gathered in the courtyard, the horses Cullen had procured for them stood saddled and ready to begin their journey. It was Cullen and Mara who weren’t quite ready to go. It surprised Mara, just how unwilling she was to continue onto the next leg of their journey. She had made good friends here in their short time, had been welcomed so thoroughly into the group of friends. 

It had been so nice to spend more time with Cassandra, Sera, and Dagna without the stress of Denerim hanging over them. She’d enjoyed getting to know Bull and the Chargers, and Dorian especially. Varric and Cole had been wonderful too. And she’d found herself grateful to Vivienne too. They were all gathered there in the courtyard to bid them farewell, even Lorraine and Edmund had arrived a few minutes before. 

The group was scattered around the horses, much like the wind that would eventually blow them all off to different parts of Thedas. Dorian was leaving soon too, and Bull and the Chargers would escort him as far as they could. Dorian kept near Bull as he said his goodbyes, a hand in his or resting on his arm. Bull seemed steadier for the contact too. 

Lorraine stood off to the side, leaning against Edmund. She hadn’t come over to speak to her, and Mara didn’t expect it. Lorraine had given her a knowing look and a slight nod as she’d walked away from Cullen. Mara understood something in that silent exchanged. They’d never be friends, and that was fine, they could be on the same side though. Both wanting Cullen’s happiness. And that was good enough. 

Cullen had been quiet all morning, contemplative even. She could see the hint of sadness in his eyes, and how he embraced his friends. She understood, he hadn’t seen some of them in over a year, and who could say when they’d be all together like this again?

“We get to come visit when we go back to Ferelden, yeah?” Sera asked her as they said goodbye. Sera and Dagna were off to Kirkwall in a few days, and then wherever Red Jenny business took them after that.  

“I’d be awfully upset if you didn’t,” Mara replied with a grin, “Besides, we didn’t pull nearly enough pranks on him while we were here.”

Sera’s eyes were bright, “Good.”

Dagna nodded, “I can’t wait! We barely got to be in South Reach the last time before Denerim.”

She hugged Dagna tightly, “Cause all of the havoc you two.”

Dagna giggled, “Oh we will.” Mara knew it was true. 

Dorian approached her next, doing a very good job of trying to hide the misting of his eyes, “You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to you using the crystal of Cullen’s every now and again too.”

“I’m not very good at chess,” she joked. 

Dorian laughed seeming grateful for the humor, “No chess required.”

“Alright then,” Mara tried not to show just how much it meant to her. 

“Safe travels, I hope I get to see you again soon,” Dorian hugged her. 

Bull was right behind him, picking her up and into a crushing hug. “Have a good trip home.”

She sucked in several breaths as he let her go, “Will do.”

Cassandra pulled her into a quick hug as well, releasing her as if someone else might notice, “I’ll be coming back to Ferelden soon too. Hopefully I can come visit South Reach.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Mara smiled. 

Cullen and Varric were exchanging a few words when Cole appeared next to her. She’d tried to get used to his habit of appearing seemingly out of thin air, but she still jumped a little. 

“Everyone is sad, but happy too. This is what people call bittersweet isn’t it?” Cole asked. 

She smiled as she rubbed her mare’s neck, “It is. More sweet than bitter though I think.”

“I think so too. It’s nice to care about people so much it hurts to say goodbye,” Cole whispered. 

Mara thought about that for a moment, “It’s just goodbye for now, not forever.”

But then he was gone.

And she hoped she hadn’t lied. 

Cullen had put his hand on the small of her back, and looking at him told her that it was time to go, that he’d had enough of goodbyes. And so with smiles they waved as they mounted their horses and trotted down the road away from the estate. Until everyone in the courtyard was too small to distinguish.  

“For all of my nervousness coming here, I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Cullen said, voice a little rough. She did him the favor of not glancing at him, just in case he needed a moment.  

She nodded, “But we’ll see them again.”

“I hope so,” Cullen replied. 

They rode on, until Ostwick disappeared behind them and green hills were all that stretched ahead of them. 

***

The forest along the road stretched out, green and wild, and Mara began to feel as if the trees and the hills were somehow hers. Her trees and her hills. She had a map to follow, as was the custom any time Dalish were buried somewhere other than holy burial grounds. The maps were always made and given to their kin. She’d kept it safe, just in case she ever wished to return. They were getting close, something, somewhere within her could tell. They’d left the road behind several miles back, and Cullen had followed her without hesitation. 

Then she felt it.

It was a like a tug on her heart, and she knew exactly where she was. 

“We need to leave the horses here,” she said, stopping. 

Cullen stopped his horse as well, “Are we there?”

“Almost, but no horses. We can tie them up here, they’ll be safe,” she said. Then realizing Cullen would have no idea why, added, “The burial grounds are sacred. That’s why the horses need to stay here.”

Cullen dismounted and took the reins from her, “I understand. Just lead the way and tell me what not to do.”

She smiled at that, but then turned back in the other direction, putting her hand to the trunk of a tree, and she could feel the Dalish magic. It was like it was calling to her, beckoning her on. As soon as Cullen had their packs she surged forward, following the call. 

The clearing was so familiar, everything exactly has she remembered it. It was green, and the trees were so dense that sunlight only seeped in through small openings in the leaves. The sunlight cast long lines of light throughout the small clearing, dust motes danced in it. The clearing even smelled the same. That earthy, right after rain smell that had permeated her childhood. 

But there was a difference. The small saplings she had carefully planted in the earth were grown. They jutted from the ground taller than she’d expected. They had grown twined together as they reached toward the sky, as if the trees were forever embracing one another. 

She couldn’t help but cry as she knelt near the mounded ground that the trees were planted on. This was it, her parent’s final resting place. A place she thought perhaps she’d never return to. Cullen knelt down beside her, taking her hand. 

“This is it?” he whispered. 

She nodded, the tears running down her face.

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, “It’s beautiful.”

She stared up at the trees that seemed to be stretching upwards, beyond the forest canopy, hoping to see something of her parents in the twining trees, but she felt as she always had at their gravesite, that they were not there. 

Still, they stayed kneeling in silence for a long time. 

“Da’len,” a voice said quietly. 

Both she and Cullen were up in an instant, daggers drawn. But Mara froze.

She recognized that voice, that face. The vallaslin of Mythal that glowed bright blue against her tan skin was familiar to her too, as were the Keeper’s robes she would have someday worn. The mantle she would have taken up for her people. It was as if no time had passed at all. She felt sixteen again, because standing there in the clearing behind them was Keeper Deshanna. She was smiling and looking for all the world as if she had been waiting for them. 

She bowed her head in greeting, guilt quietly ravaging her, “Andaran atish’an Keeper Deshanna.”

Cullen remained behind her, but at Deshanna’s name he relaxed. She didn’t look up from the ground as Deshanna rushed forward, pulling her into her arms. 

“Oh Mara, it has been so long,” she said as she held her tightly. She deserved none of this greeting. Not a single bit of it. She’d walked away from her clan, her responsibilities. She hadn’t even said a proper goodbye.  

Tears rushed down her cheeks unbidden, “How did you find us?”

“There are so many things I still could teach you da’len,” she replied. It was both a promise and a plea. She felt it even as she knew she could not accept it. 

Mara pulled back, wiping her eyes as she reached for Cullen, “Deshanna, this is Cullen Rutherford. He…” the words caught, she wasn’t sure what to say so that Deshanna would understand. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the betrayal she would see in Deshanna’s eyes, “I love him.”

Deshanna looked at Cullen, eyes narrowing, “The Inquisition general?”

Cullen nodded, extending a hand to her, “It’s nice to meet you, Mara has told me so much about you.”

Deshanna simply stared at his outstretched hand, and did not take it. To his credit, Cullen kept it outstretched far longer than Mara would have. Eventually, Cullen dropped it, bring it up to rub his neck nervously. 

“You love him?” she asked, turning to Mara. Her voice was dripping with condemnation, as if daring her to say it again. There was a quiet grief in her eyes. Mara had prepared herself for the look of betrayal, but not for that. It was a punch in the gut. 

Mara straightened, “I do.”

“You are not coming home,” Deshanna said carefully. It wasn’t a question. 

She couldn’t meet Deshanna’s unflinching gaze, “No.”

“I see,” Deshanna looked between her and Cullen. “What brought you here?”

She swallowed, “I wanted to come here one last time, I don’t know why. What I was looking for.”

There was silence as Deshanna considered. She wished for all the world that Deshanna had the answers for her, for what she had hoped to find there in that clearing. The peace, the knowledge that she was making the right choice. 

“You’ve always been looking for home. Looking for it so desperately. I remember how you used to cry when our clan moved on from a place we’d been for a while. You never could understand why we had to move, the dangers we faced in staying in one place. But you’ve found a home haven’t you?” Deshanna asked. 

She had. In a place with tall peaks and a loud family that had taken her in as one of their own from the start. The word was the lightest she’d uttered yet, “Yes.”

Deshanna smiled sadly, “I would not part with you over less.”

“I’m sorry,” Mara whispered, wishing she had more than those two words to give to the woman who had raised her. Who had always been family, who had trained and taught her so much. But it was all she had for her. 

“There is a place in my heart for you, always. You can still return to our clan, until you bear his child at least. You know the laws to which I am bound,” Deshanna said. She felt Cullen tense beside her, and go very very still.  

“I do, and I do not contest them. I don’t wish to return,” Mara replied. She could have sworn she heard him exhale in relief.

Deshanna nodded, as if it was the answer she was expecting. Then she glided towards the twining trees. She reached her hand up and took hold of a small branch, her magic glowed greenish blue and a crack rippled through the clearing. 

Deshanna approached Mara again, holding out the branch, “Plant this wherever you call home, and we will always be with you.”

Mara took it, tears burning in the corners of her eyes, “Thank you.”

Deshanna turned her steely gaze to Cullen, “You love her?”

Cullen straightened, “More than anything.”

She stared at him a long while, and Mara wondered what it was she was looking for, “To the end of your days?”

“Forever,” he said. The word cut right through her, her heart swelled at the declaration. 

Deshanna nodded, “Cullen Rutherford I see what is in your heart, and you have my blessing.”

Cullen simply nodded. 

Deshanna turned back to her. The grief was back in her eyes, “May you always be able to find your way home, and may your days be full of peace and happiness, da’len.”

She reached for Deshanna once more, likely for the last time, “Ar lath ma.”

She didn’t respond, but placed her hand on Mara’s cheek, and looking at her once more as if to memorize her features. And then she disappeared into the trees, becoming nothing more than a whisper on the wind. 

Mara stood staring after her and then at the branch in her hands, while her heart silently broke into pieces. She heard Cullen moving behind her, knew he was making noise on purpose as he approached, so that if she wanted, she could tell him to stop. She knew he would, that they’d learned a long time ago when to press each other and when not to. 

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. 

She didn’t need to look at him to know the expression he wore on his face, the worry that would be in his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” she replied. 

“I won’t stop you if you want to go. If you want to go with her I would…” his voice broke a little on the words, “I would respect that.”

Mara finally looked at Cullen. She could see the anguish in his face, that he was fully prepared to let her go, that perhaps as soon as Deshanna had arrived he had expected it. She reached for him, pulling him into a hug, “I know, Cullen. I know. That’s not what I want, that’s not my home anymore. My home, future, everything is with you.”

She felt the shudder of a breath from him as she spoke and he held her tighter. Damn whatever the consequences of this choice was. She didn’t care, being with him and seeing him happy were worth so much more than what she stood to lose. 

“Deshanna is terrifying,” he said into her hair. 

She laughed as she pulled away, “She’s always been that way.”

Cullen kissed her, she could taste the relief and hope on his lips, felt it in the way he held her. It broke her to know just how easily he’d expected her to choose anything but him, but she’d spend the rest of her life trying to change that. 

“What now?” he asked. 

“I think I’m quite ready to go home.”

“To Wycome then?” he asked. 

She nodded, looking back at the twining trees over her parents graves. Cullen took her hand and looked at it too, “We can stay a little longer if you want.”

“I’ve got a piece of them to carry with me,” she said, holding up her branch. 

Cullen smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling and she knew that he knew she wasn’t sure what to make of all of this yet. How to feel, or how to be, but he didn’t press her. She’d tell him when she was ready. 

And without a second glance they left. 

***

Wycome was not what one might expect based on its reputation. Most expected the city to be a dirty, booze-filled revelry. In some cases it was, but it was also beautiful. It was a place of art, and free-thinking, by far the most progressive of any city in the Free Marches. There was a level of acceptance that didn’t exist in any other city in Thedas. It was far from perfect, but it was different.  

The Minanter River flowed through the city and onto the sea, it was as much a landmark as it was a means of transportation. Tall houses in browns, greens, and blues towered over the river, the white outlines of their windows catching rays of sunlight. It was said that if one ventured into the artist’s corner right before sunset, the glittering of the windows would be reflected in the Minanter, and that it was unlike any view in all of Thedas. 

And then there was the music. It could be heard on every street corner, mixing with the sounds of people and the bustling noise of life. Somehow the noise made the music even sweeter rather than drowning it out, as if the residents of Wycome moved with the music, had grown accustomed to timing their lives to the beat. 

When they arrived in Wycome, Cullen and Mara had a full day to spend before they were to be expected on  _ Day’s Grace _ . The innkeeper hadn’t even blinked when they’d procured a room, most at the very least gave them a strange look at being in each other’s company, an elf and a human. They spent the day walking around the city eating street food, walking around the artist’s quarter, and enjoying each other’s company. 

Cullen didn’t say, but she knew he was not looking forward to being back on the ship, no matter how much he wanted to go home. But that day and a half in Wycome were straight out of a dream. They were just a couple walking the streets, no responsibilities, and nothing placing demands on their time but each other. 

They’d picked up small trinkets to give to everyone upon their return, but especially for the kids. The thought of those mountains and being back at the estate made her happier than she could articulate. Now that she had some distance from what had happened in the clearing, she was ready to look forward, instead of back. 

The following morning she and Cullen walked along the river towards the harbor, hand in hand. 

“Are you ready to go home?” Cullen asked, squeezing her hand as he spoke. 

She looked at the city around her, “Sort of. I could spend a few more days here. And yet, I’m anxious to get back home and back to having a place that belongs to me. I also miss everyone.”

Cullen chuckled, “I’m quite sick of feeling as though I’m intruding on someone’s hospitality. Even if I’m paying for it.”

“Are you ready to be on a ship again?” Mara asked. 

Cullen sighed, “Maker no, but there isn’t another way is there?”

“I’m afraid not, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, “I’ve got the best healer in all of Thedas to look after me.”

“The best healer in  _ all _ of Thedas? I doubt that,” she shook her head. 

“I don’t know, you tended to the Inquisitor, isn’t that something?” he joked. He’d been so happy the last few weeks, joking and laughing more freely than ever. Oh he was still serious, but there was a spark in him that hadn’t been nearly as bright before. She didn’t want to dim that, but she had to ask. 

“About, what happened, the day of the wedding. You seemed upset and you never explained,” she said quietly. 

He faltered a little walking, but spoke as he looked out to where the river met the sea, “There was a time when I wanted that sort of news to be for me. It was a kneejerk reaction to be upset by it. I’m not actually, not at all.”

“There’s history there, it makes it hard,” she said over the sound of gulls overhead. White sails rose up against the azure of the sky. 

“It shouldn’t have,” he said quietly. 

“I think things will always be hard for you when it comes to Lorraine, and it will always be hard for me when it comes to my clan. It’s okay,” she shrugged. And she meant it, had merely wanted an answer, hoped he was alright. 

“Perhaps you’re right,” he replied, staring out over the water. 

She squeezed his hand, “At any rate, I feel as if I can move forward now.”

He glanced to her, his gaze colored golden in the sunlight, “Me too.”

She moved in closer, quite ready to kiss him when she heard the unmistakable voice of Captain Hadley, “Right on time, my crew had a bet going on how many days late you’d be. I’d put you down on at least a day. I’ll lose out on a few coppers. Shame.”

“Truly,” Mara called up to the ship’s deck. She hadn’t realized they were right at the ship until Hadley had spoken. 

“I’ll earn them all back. I’ve got money on Cullen being sick the entire journey,” she said, jumping down from the rail of the ship. 

Cullen didn’t even seem annoyed as he looked up at her, “Well, at least I’ll be good for something this trip.”

Hadley laughed, and then they boarded the ship to go home. 

Home. She had a home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene with Deshanna had been sitting in my head for months now and it was lovely to finally get it out and written. We're pushing ever closer to the end of this! I can't wait to show you what I have in store to tie everything off! Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think!


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara and Cullen return to South Reach.

They were both travel worn and exhausted when the familiar hills of South Reach came into view. The mountains beyond were green, but white snow topped them still, even with the weather as warm as it was. There was a certain beauty in the contrast of the lush green hills and the lingering snow. In a few months it would disappear completely, but until the peak of summer, those patches would stay. 

Cullen was ready for his own bed, and to simply stay in one place for a while. The trip on the  _ Day’s Grace _ hadn’t been quite as miserable as the one to Ostwick, but it had still been uncomfortable and he had been very glad to get off of the void taken ship. 

They’d retrieved their horses and gotten on the road immediately. Mara didn’t say it, but he was sure that she was just as ready to be home as he was. He noticed it in the way she looked around at the familiar landmarks, and the way she stared off at the mountains as if she had missed them. 

A faint breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves. It had rained recently, but luckily they’d missed most of the storm, even the roads hadn’t muddied. Everything looked fresh, and the wildflowers that grew along the road peeked up through the grass in pinks and yellows and purples. 

The estate came into view, and Cullen could have wept for the sight of it. The ivy along the side of the North wall had come back after the brutal winter, spanning dense and bright against the brick. The house looked so much different than it had when he’d first come across it, broken down and neglected. It looked almost cheerful, the iron gates standing open always, a reminder that they’d never turn anyone away, never cage them in. The barn was functional and Cullen knew that if he walked to the back of the house there would be Mara’s flourishing herb garden. Even the house seemed like it was glad to see them in the way it caught the light, but that could have also been the exhaustion. Home, it was home. 

Argos’s barking likely alerted everyone of their arrival. The mabari ran right up to Sterling, greeting both the horse and Cullen with a wag of his knobby tail. Cullen dismounted with a smile, and gave Argos a rub behind his ears. 

“Hello there,” he said to the excited mabari. 

Mara wasn’t close behind, “Hey there, boy.” 

Argos jumped up to greet her, despite being the runt of his litter he’d grown so much during the winter that he came nearly up to Mara’s shoulders as he stood on his hind legs. He was still as clumsy as a newly weaned pup though, and Argos was constantly forgetting just how big he was. 

His tongue lolled out as Mara laughed, “I think someone missed us.”

“He was impossible while you were gone,” Barris replied as he came down the front steps. 

Argos kept jumping around him and Mara excitedly and Cullen chuckled, “Really?”

“Most of the time he laid in your office, watching the front door,” Barris said, “Poor beast.”

“Awww, that’s a little sweet,” Mara said, “It’s good to see you Barris.” She gave him a hug. 

Barris smiled, “And it’s good to see the two of you. How was Ostwick?” 

Cullen replied, “It was good, but I think we’re both glad to be home.”

“Very glad,” Mara added. 

Rosie was running down the stairs, “I thought I heard Argos going crazy!”

She ran right to him, and he hugged his sister, realizing then just how much he’d missed his family. She broke away to hug Mara too and grinned, “Mia is going to be pissed that she’s not here.”

Cullen laughed, but then looked to Barris, “Any surprises while we were gone?” 

Barris shook his head, “This time things really were all quiet here, it helped that Lyre and Davis are the only ones still around.”

Audra, Trina, and Hendrick had already gone to join the Seekers as soon as the roads had cleared. Lyre and Davis weren’t quite sure what they wanted their next steps to be so they had stayed on. They had a new group set to arrive in two weeks, which Cullen hoped would give them enough time to prepare and rest. However, the thought of another group at that moment made Cullen feel inexplicably tired. 

“Good, and thank you again. We never worried because we knew this place was in such good hands,” he said. 

“I’m going to go get Mia,” Rosie said before hurrying into the stable to get her horse, she paused and turned back though and gave Barris a quick peck on the cheek before continuing on her way. Barris stared after her with a smile.  

Maker, it was good to see them both so happy. 

“Come on, let’s get the horses taken care of and then Sal will get you some hot food and you can rest,” Barris said. 

Between the three of them, it didn’t take long for them to get the horses untacked. Lyre and Davis met them in the foyer, full of questions that followed them into the kitchen. Sal looked annoyed that they were bothering her in her domain, but the amount of food that she kept bringing to the table suggested otherwise. 

“You look right peaked,” she commented to Cullen gruffly.

Mara answered for him, “He was seasick all the way home.”

Sal frowned with understanding, “I think I’ve got some pie tucked away from the other night.”

Barris shook his head as she left, “I’m not sure why she’s taken a liking to you, but she’s never that nice to the rest of us.”

Cullen slipped a few scraps to Argos who had positioned himself at his side, waiting patiently for food, but mostly just seeming to be happy to be near him. Cullen was idly rubbing his ears as Mara described Wycome to Lyre and Davis when Mia, Matthew, Bran and Rosie burst into the dining room. Cullen didn’t see the kids, but could hear their laughter echoing somewhere in the house. 

His older sister smiled at him, quiet relief in her eyes, “Welcome back.”

He stood to hug her, trying not to think too much on how relieved she seemed. He supposed it might always be that way for her, that every time he left she’d be reminded of all the years they’d spent apart. He supposed he deserved as much. 

Bran smiled and pulled him into him with clasped hands, “When you can break away we’ve got something to show you.” His voice was barely loud enough for Cullen to hear, but he gave his brother a nod. 

And in that room full of family and friends, Cullen sat back down to catch up with everyone. 

***

That afternoon, after they had both bathed and napped Cullen found Mara in the infirmary taking inventory of her stores. She had bottles and packets out, a tally sheet in front of her. She was so busy she barely noticed him enter. 

While she had been napping Branson and Matthew had taken him along the overgrown path away from the estate, to show him what they’d done while he was away. He’d been shocked at the amount of work they’d done. It wasn’t quite finished, but it was almost complete. 

Cullen hadn’t been able to find the words to thank them, but they’d seemed to understand. Then Branson had squeezed his shoulder and told him to bring Mara out there. And so he planned to do just that. 

She’d braided her hair in a simple plait over her shoulder. She’d been thrilled when it was long enough to do that, and she’d been wearing it like that quite often. It didn’t hang much further than her collarbone, but Cullen had to admit he liked it too.

“Near a stopping place?” he asked looking out the windows, gauging just how much daylight was left. From where the sun hung, it looked like there was at least an hours worth. 

She looked up and said, “I can be. Why?” 

“I have something to show you,” he said, words leaving his mouth in a rush. His heart was thundering with excitement and nerves, and it seemed as if everything was moving very slowly around him. 

“What do you have to show me?” she asked, crossing her arms.

He grinned, “Come with me.”

She gave him a playfully suspicious look, “Okay.”

He took her hand, leading her out into the garden, “I’ve been working on this since we came back from Denerim.” They walked along the stone path through Mara’s flourishing herb garden, he could smell the embrium on the air. 

Mara was walking fast to keep up with his too excited stride, “Really?” 

He nodded, and heard Argos run up behind them. He’d scarcely let Cullen out of his sight since they’d returned. Cullen had left him curled up in his office, sleeping on the patch of sunlight coming in through the window, but clearly he’d noticed and followed. 

He shook his head at the mabari, “Can’t stand being left out can you?”

The mabari barked in response and Mara laughed.

“Well we did abandon him for almost three weeks,” Mara said. 

“He just knows I’m the only one that slips him food from the table,” he replied.  

They reached the edge of the trees and Cullen paused. He had a plan, he’d envisioned it all in his head the last few hours, scarcely being able to sleep as he thought about it. He turned to Mara who was looking at him expectantly. 

“Close your eyes.”

Mara scowled at him, “You’re going to take me in there and expect me to keep my eyes shut?”

He nodded, “Argos and I won’t let you fall.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but then sighed and closed them. He kissed her forehead before leading her slowly along the path he had come to knew well. It felt like an eternity as he led her to the clearing, but he knew it was the nerves and the excitement all coupled together into a churning mix inside him. As it came into view Cullen thought it might have been the most beautiful structure he’d ever seen. 

The roof had been fixed, brand new and solid to withstand the brutal South Reach winters. Branson and Matthew had cleared out the most overgrown of the trees near it, so that the clearing was full of sunlight. The new windows gleamed in the light, and the front door was now a cheery blue thanks to Bran. It was quiet and cozy, and theirs if Mara wanted it.  

Everytime he looked at it, his heart felt full to bursting. It was a reminder of his family. He’d worked hard on it, but it would have never been as far along without Branson and Matthew’s help. And how they’d managed to keep it a secret for so long was nothing short of a miracle. Finally he turned back to where Mara was waiting patiently, her eyes still closed a faint smile on her face. 

He set her up so that she was fully facing the house and then he whispered, “Open your eyes.”

She did, and there was confusion on her face as she took in the sight before her, “What is this?”

Cullen rubbed his neck, his heart pounding, “I thought that maybe the estate was getting a little crowded for us.” What if she didn’t want this? What if she didn’t want to move out here away from the estate, what if she didn’t want a house? Each question barrelled through him, filling him with dread. 

Her eyes went wide, “This is ours?” 

He relaxed a bit, “If you want it.”

She stared at the house as if it might disappear, “I’ve never had….no one’s ever...” She shook her head as the words refused to come, and her eyes gleamed with tears as she toyed with the hem of her tunic. The awe in her voice nearly broke him.  

“It’s not done yet,” he explained, “Needs some more work inside, but I thought that it would be nice to have something away from everyone. And that tree Deshanna gave you, I thought that you might be able to plant it here, if you wanted.” 

The tears were flowing freely down Mara’s face as she looked between him and the house, “I’d really like that.”

Cullen took a deep breath, “You would?” 

She nodded, “I can’t believe you did all this.”

“Branson and Matthew helped a lot,” he admitted. 

“And you kept it a secret all this time,” she gave him a playful shove. 

He laughed and gathered her up in his arms, “Yes, because I wanted you to see it like this.”

“I love you, Cullen Rutherford,” she whispered and then smiled up at him. It was a smile he’d only ever seen on her face when they were alone, something he’d come to treasure and try to coax out more often.  

The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, “Marry me.” 

Argos barked from somewhere beyond them. 

Mara froze, “What?”

He sighed, this not how he’d envisioned this going, “I mean….will you…” he sighed, “I had a plan, and there wasn’t a dog or a house. But you were….it doesn’t matter. I’ve thought of little else, and I don’t need a plan. Only to know if you would.”

He let the words hang in the air, he was once again afraid to hope too loudly, just in case. Mara’s eyes softened, “Yes.”

He thought perhaps his heart may have stopped as he stared down at her, “Truly?”

She pressed onto her tiptoes, “Yes, a million times yes.” And then she kissed him, as if to seal her answer. He kissed her back, urgently and hungrily, crushing her body against his. 

She was going to be marry him. 

She was going to be his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *incoherent screaming* I've been so excited about this chapter since this spring when I figured out how this whole story was going to end and all that good stuff. I'm just so thrilled to see something that's been living in my head for so long out on paper. This is the last chapter, the next is the epilogue and that will be the final posting. I've already got a good bit of it written, but it's probably going to be VERY long and I make no apologies for that. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, I'm excited to hear what you wonderful folks think! Thanks again for reading!


	44. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final installment. Thank you's in the end notes.

“What do you think Magisters do? Just sit around in Minrathous and look pretty?” Dorian’s voice drifted up through the blue glowing crystal, and he might be thousands of miles away, but the annoyance in his voice was palpable. “Couldn’t you have gotten married when we were all together? You couldn’t of course, because Lorraine would have murdered you. But I can’t just traipse around Thedas whenever I please.”

Cullen couldn’t find it in him to feel bad in the least as Mara, who was sitting in his lap said to Dorian, “This is why we’re contacting you first. When can you come?”

Dorian sighed, “I have to be here through Solace at least. I can be there by mid-August.”

“Don’t sound so annoyed Dorian,” Cullen drawled.

“Can you two wait that long to be married? Because if you say you were planning on Summerday I will figure out a way to hurt you through this damn crystal,” Dorian said, “I’ve been in Minrathous for just over a week and here you are asking me to leave again.”

“You’ll get to see Bull though,” Mara suggested.

“Mara darling, no need to butter me up, I’m coming,” Dorian said, “But it is an added benefit that I’ll get to spend some interrupted time with him.”

Mara grinned from her perch on his lap, “So end of August then?”

Cullen could almost see Dorian rubbing his eyelids as he spoke, “That will be fine.”

“Good, you’ll tell Bull won’t you?” Cullen said. 

“I’m not one of Leliana’s ravens,” Dorian protested.

“I just thought that you’d talk to him before we could get the news to him,” Cullen replied. 

“Well, that is true.” 

Mara shook her head, “We’re excited to see you.”

“So you’re a ‘we’ now? Maker help us all,” Dorian quipped, and then sighed, “I am excited for you both. Congratulations.”

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Cullen said. 

“I’ve got work to do and another trip to plan for it seems.” 

“Bye!” Mara called and the crystal stopped glowing. 

Cullen chuckled, “Well he took it better than I expected.”

“You would have thought we’d asked him circumnavigate all of Thedas,” Mara said. 

“Well he does call Ferelden the backwater of Thedas, so it’s close enough,” Cullen replied. 

Mia appeared in the doorway of the office, “So... you have a date then?”

Cullen looked to Mara for confirmation, and she nodded, “Last day of August.”

Mia’s excitement over the engagement was probably only rivaled by his and Mara’s. She had immediately began talking wedding plans. Mara had been a little taken aback by the whole thing, but seemed happy enough to go along with it all. Cullen was thankful that Mia seemed to want very little of his opinion. 

“That will be lovely,” Mia smiled, “I’ll go talk to the Revered Mother this afternoon and get the Chantry booked.”

She was gone in a flick of her blue dress, off to make some other plan or something and Cullen looked to a slightly shocked Mara, “Um, we hadn’t discussed it.”

Mara looked to the now empty doorway, “No, we hadn’t.”

“I’ll go talk to her, tell her we want it somewhere else,” Cullen said. 

Mara looked at him green eyes searching, “Isn’t the Chantry where people get married?”

“If they’re Andrastian,” Cullen replied, “It can be done anywhere.”

“Marriage seems like quite the production. Bondings were just done in front of the Keeper’s aravel, wherever the clan was,” Mara said, tracing shapes into the wood of the desk. 

“We can find a clan and have a Keeper bond us,” Cullen offered, “Marriage, bonding, I don’t care.”

She let out a tight laugh, “We’d have to find a  _ very _ liberal Keeper for that, to bind an elf and human.”

He kissed her cheek, “What do you want?”

“The Chantry is fine, and I think it means a lot to Mia. How scandalized is the Mother going to be if I say Dalish vows?” she asked. 

“Probably just enough. In fact, I’m quite excited to see the look on her face,” he said. 

Mara looked surprised, “Really?”

“I want your promise to be true, that’s all that matters to me,” he said. He meant it, she could vow before the Qun and he’d not care as long it meant they were committing to each other. 

She smiled, “Alright then, let your sister have her Chantry wedding.”

“There was another thing too, I wanted to ask you,” Cullen said, wondering perhaps if what he wanted was too strange. 

“Now would seem an appropriate time,” she smiled, leaning against him. 

“It’s typical to have a best man for the wedding, but I sort of wanted to ask Mia to be my best man, best woman or whatever it would be. But to fulfill that role,” he said. 

“And what about Bran?”

“I honestly think he’ll be relieved if I asked her.”

“Well I have an idea for Bran anyway. If he will do it. And Rosie can be my maid of honor and that sets everything up nicely,” Mara said. 

“It’s not a requirement you know, to have maids of honor and the like,” Cullen said. 

She shrugged, “I know, but I think it would be nice to have your siblings involved.”

“It would.”

***

It was a quiet morning as Mara walked along the road with Branson and David. Bran had requested that she come with him that morning to move the sheep to their day pasture, had said he’d wanted to show her something. 

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but it was warm out, promising another hot day. Autumn was still just a wish on the wind in the night, but Bran kept saying that it was going to turn soon enough and she trusted him. 

She’d ridden over to Mia’s early, as Bran had requested, just as everyone at Mia’s would be waking up. Cullen had been awake when she’d left their bed, already preparing himself for the day. They were sort of between groups at the moment, which was exactly as they’d planned it once they’d set the date for their wedding, in hopes they would have a just a little bit of time to themselves. 

They reached the night pasture as the sun was rising up over the green hills, casting everything about in a warm orange glow. “Why move them?” she asked. 

“I put them in this night pasture, smaller, with a better fence to keep them safe from predators. And also so they don’t eat everything in the day pasture,” Branson explained as he opened up the gate, letting David in to get to work. The rising sun caught in his golden curls, glittering as he moved.

The mabari barked and took off into the pen, before herding the sheep along the road, “You have a lot of sheep.”

Branson laughed, “Well in order to make any money you sort of have to have a whole herd.”

“And you do this every day?” 

“That surprising?” he grinned at her. 

She shrugged, “Just seems like an awful lot of work every single day.”   
“It’s my time though, it’s quiet and the world isn’t quite awake yet,” Branson replied, following the sheep. 

“Well, I think I’d prefer to spend that time in bed,” she said. 

“So I know you don’t want to get married in the Chantry,” Bran said. 

She sighed, “Doesn’t really matter as long as we get married.”

“I know that my older sister sort of strong armed you into that one, and I wanted to help, but I never had a better option. Until the other morning it hit me,” Bran explained. 

They crested a hill, looking out upon miles and miles of green, rolling farmland. David was herding the sheep through a large gate opening to what must be the day pasture. A massive oak tree stood beside a bubbling creek. David was crouched low on the road, tail up in the air as he jumped around to keep the sheep moving into the pasture. 

She looked to Branson, “Until what hit you?” It had taken effort to look away from the beautiful scene laid out before her, and she wasn’t sure what he was suggesting. 

“You could get married here,” he gestured ahead of them, “Right under the tree.”

She stared out at the day pasture. 

“It’s closer to the house than the Chantry, but this fits you both better I think. Of course I’ll find another place for the sheep to be, and make sure it’s cleaned up and everything, and I’ll also deal with Mia,” Branson said, blue eyes searching the land as he spoke.

Mara turned to soon to be brother-in-law, “Is this your way of giving me your blessing to marry your brother?”

Branson grinned and put his arm around her shoulders, “If anyone needed my blessing, it was Cullen who needed it to marry you.”

She fought the tears coming to her eyes by attempting to joke, “I’m going to married in a sheep pasture.”

Branson laughed, “Only if you want.”

She looked up to him, “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“The Revered Mother will probably not be thrilled, but who cares?” Bran said as they entered the pasture. 

“She was already going to balk at my Dalish vows,” Mara shrugged, “What’s a little more scandal?”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Bran?” she paused and he did too, examining his crook, “I know that it’s normal for someone to walk the bride down the aisle, and I’ve been wondering for a while if...”

She was losing confidence as she spoke.

Branson smiled gently, catching her meaning, “I’d love to walk you down the aisle.”

She hugged him then, “Thank you, for everything.”

He held her tightly for a moment, “No Mara, thank you.”

***

“Ay this place is much cozier when it’s not freezing out,” Sera said as she dropped onto the couch in the office. She had somehow managed to charm her way into a peach, that or stolen it when Sal wasn’t looking. Despite their protests Sal was hellbent on making sure that their wedding had plenty of food. At first he’d been worried that Mia and Sal might kill each other, but instead they’d found themselves agreeing on almost everything and flawlessly coordinating the food and cake, and Cullen didn’t know or care what else. 

Dagna and Mara were at the cottage installing Sera and Dagna’s wedding present. They’d been gifted some enchanted bells that would ring if the matching set was as well. They’d probably been used by some noble for their servants, but Mara and Cullen hadn’t wanted to waste time with a runner if there was an emergency at the estate. They weren’t far from the house, but the cottage was far enough away that the bells would be useful. 

They were basically moved into the cottage, but Mia had insisted on some semblance of propriety, so they hadn’t actually spent the night there yet. They had, however, done other things. 

He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to Mia, Rosie had moved into the estate officially in the spring and Mia had hardly protested. Perhaps it was because she knew that Rosie already had her mind set on it, and that intense stubbornness was a Rutherford family trait. He’d offered to give Rosie her own room, but she’d just simply said she’d rather share with Barris and he decided not to take issue with it. Though Maker knew he wanted to.  

Sera’s annoyed whistling pulled him from his thoughts. 

“My apologies,” he’d tried to remember what it was she’d said, “It is much nicer here in summer, but I still think autumn is my favorite.” 

“Yeah? Maybe we’ll come back after Val Royeaux,” Sera said. 

“That’d be nice, there’s a Firelight Festival you’d love. Lots of dancing,” Cullen smiled up from his paperwork. 

“When Dorian and his escort getting here?” Sera asked, feet dangling impatiently. 

“Later today I think, based on what he said when we spoke this morning,” Cullen replied, glancing out the window. The sun was lower than he expected. He wouldn’t be surprised if they arrived very soon. 

As if in answer the sound of people out at the gate had both him and Sera looking towards the front door. “Do you think that’s them?”

Sera grinned, “It better be, then the real fun can begin.”

“No offense,” she hastily added. 

Cullen chuckled, “None taken.”

Sera was already rushing out front, and so he followed behind her. She was tossing her half eaten peach in the air and leaning against the doorframe, “Bout time you all showed up, yeah?”

“Some of us had to travel all the way from Minathrous to be here, it takes time, Sera,” Dorian said, voice slightly annoyed, “Tell me we at least beat Cassandra.”

They hadn’t. She had arrived yesterday morning, and last he checked was out in the training yard with Barris. 

Iron Bull chuckled, “Oh Sera, have I got the story for you. There was this assassin we took out in Jader and there was this -” 

“Maker Chief, at least say hello before you get into talking about blood and guts and stuff,” Krem said as he dismounted from his horse. 

Dorian nodded in agreement, “Really Amatus, Krem has a point.”

Cullen was already in the midst of greeting them. Bull gave him a knee wobbling slap on the shoulder, “I never did congratulate you. Tell me there will be lots of drinking to celebrate this.”

Sera smiled mischievously, “Oh Mia and I have it all planned.”

Cullen wasn’t sure he wanted to know the plans, but Bull bellowed out a laugh, “Good.”

“And where is Mara?” Dorian glanced around. 

“At the cottage with Dagna,” Cullen replied, “They should be back soon.”

Mia and Rosie emerged from the house, eyes going slightly wide at the sight of the hulking qunari out front. They both seemed a little unsure if they should join the large group, so Cullen walked over, taking Dorian with him. It seemed the safest way to ease them into the rowdy group that had just arrived. 

“My sisters Mia and Rosalie,” Cullen said, “This is Dorian Pavus.”

Dorian bowed slightly, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you both, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Mia nodded slightly, “We’ve heard a lot about you too. And you’ve come all the way from Tevinter? You must be exhausted.”

Dorian smiled, “Quite. I’m very much looking forward to a bath and a real bed.”

Rosie smiled, “I’ll show you to your room if you’d like.”

Dorian glanced to Bull and his horse he’d abandoned, as if debating whether he should take her up on her offer. Bull didn’t even glance at him as he said, “Go Kadan, I’ll take care of the horse.”

“That is precisely why I keep you around, Amatus,” Dorian chuckled. “Well Rosie, please lead the way.”

Mia came to his side while Dorian and Rosie went into the house and said quietly, “Will he even fit in the house?”

Cullen laughed, “He’s pretty practiced at it by now.”

Mia just shook her head, “I’ve heard about them, and you talked about him, but I just never really realized he was so big.”

“He’ll be offended that I didn’t do him justice,” Cullen said. 

Mia giggled, “I definitely would be. Is this everyone then?”

It was, though Cullen was still finding it hard to believe that he had so many people in his life that wanted to be there. He’d invited Varric, but he’d had to decline. Things in Kirkwall had been difficult as of late and he didn’t feel like he could leave, but he’d reiterated his invitation for him and Mara to visit. Leliana was also unable to come, not that he was surprised. She had sent well wishes and a promise that when she was in Denerim next that she would be sure to see them. Josephine was back in Antiva, and had sent a huge basket of wedding gifts along with her regrets at not being able to come. 

The most important people in his life would be there, his best friends, his family, he hardly felt like he could complain. 

“Yes, I think everyone is here,” he smiled. 

Mia placed a hand on his arm, “It’s good.”

He couldn’t argue with that. 

***

Mara sat in front of the small vanity in Rosie’s room, waiting as Rosie placed delicate white and purple flowers in her hair. It was gathered loosely at the nape of her neck, Rosie had shown her what the back looked like, but she hardly cared. Her hair could be a windblown mess for it mattered to her, she was getting married in less than an hour. 

Her white dress was flowing and beautiful. The back was open, scalloped lace edges peeked out from the light material of the dress, and her sleeves reached past her elbows, flaring out delicately. It was a simple dress, cinched in at the waist with the same lace scalloping that edged the sleeves and back as well as the slight dip in the front. The skirt was long, almost ethereal. Rosie had wanted to go to Denerim to find a dress, but Mara had insisted they look there in South Reach before travelling. It was just a dress afterall, no need to make a big deal out of it. And yet, she’d been immediately drawn to her dress, and when she put it on she had simply known it was the right one. Quite the change from the elf who had never owned a dress just a year ago. 

She had spent the night at Mia’s, staying up late with Mia, Rosie, Cassandra, and Dagna. They’d drunk wine and told stories, and Mara was still a little astounded that they’d been there for her. Everyone else had been at the estate, where Mara was sure they’d been up to no good most of the night. Mia had helped plan the party with Sera, and so it was likely to be wild. They’d talked about crashing it but had instead all fallen asleep in the front room of Mia’s house. 

“There. All done,” Rosie smiled over her shoulder in the mirror. 

Rosie had picked a pretty light blue dress, golden hair tamed into a complicated braid that hung over her shoulder. 

Mara beamed at her, “Thank you.”

“Mia and I are going to leave now, and we’ll see you in just a few minutes!” Rosie gave her a quick hug before rushing from the room. 

Mara stood and examined herself in the mirror one last time. She hardly recognized herself, all done up and in that beautiful dress. This was real, and it was all really happening. She straightened the folds of her dress and then took a breath to calm the rapid racing of her heart. Excitement twisted up her stomach as she left the room, to find Branson waiting by the table. 

He was dressed in a new brown jacket, hair only slightly mussed for once, and holding a bouquet of purple wildflowers. Her bouquet she realized. 

“Wow,” he grinned at her as she walked out, “You look…”He trailed off. 

“I think I remember you saying that if I looked like a snow beast you wouldn’t walk me down the aisle,” she teased. 

He shook his head laughing, “You look nothing like a snow beast. You look beautiful. My brother is a lucky man.”

She ran a hand up to her elbow, “Thank you.”

He extended her bouquet to her, “Are you ready to go get married?”

She took the bouquet and nodded, “Very ready.”

“Your carriage awaits,” he smiled, blue eyes sparkling as he opened the door for her. 

Lyddie was attached to the wagon, newly groomed and beautiful, shaking her mane as if she knew it. Ribbons hung from the wheat wagon and flowers lined the back. 

She looked to Branson, surprise on her face. 

“Couldn’t have you arriving to your wedding in anything less,” he offered her his arm and they walked out together. 

***

The oak tree in the pasture was one of the only trees around, but it was huge and gnarled and ancient. Some of the large branches twisted just above the ground, and others still stretched tall, towards the sky. The green leaves shuddered in the slight breeze, letting sunlight filter in as they shifted. Rosie, Barris, Mia, and Matthew had hung ribbons along the branches and they flicked and snapped as Cullen stood, feeling somewhat impatient. 

Mia was beside him, in a dress the same color green as the leaves overhead. Argos sat beside her proudly, tongue lolled out to the side. The rest of their friends and family sat on mismatched chairs in the shade of the tree. Ribbons were tied on the end of each aisle, and perhaps it wasn’t a Chantry, but Cullen believed this was much much better. Even the Revered Mother looked more thrilled than he thought she would be at performing a wedding in a sheep pasture. 

It didn’t look like or feel like a sheep pasture that day though. No, his siblings had ensured that. Yet another act of kindness that he had never expected nor deserved from them. 

He fidgeted in his coat, it was a little tighter than he would have liked it, but Mia had insisted. Mara couldn’t have cared less what he got married in, but Mia had insisted on a new coat. It was a soft material of deep blue, and light in consideration of the heat. Dorian had even approved. 

Then the wagon carrying Mara and Branson came up the road, stopping at the opening in the gate. Rosie was there waiting, and began her walk towards the small gathering and up the aisle towards where he stood. She carried a small bouquet of wildflowers, beaming at Barris the whole time.

But Cullen couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mara. She and Branson were walking arm in arm, laughing at something Branson had whispered in her ear. Her bouquet was a huge collection of purple wildflowers that brought out the green of her eyes. 

But Maker, she looked beautiful. Her dress fluttered in the breeze and as she walked. It was simple and yet perfectly her. Her hair was pulled up, soft tendrils framed her face and she wore no veil. Everything about her was exquisite. She met his gaze with a wide smile and he couldn’t help but return it, his heart galloping faster as she neared. 

Branson looked every bit the proud older brother as he paused, before the Revered Mother, kissing Mara on the cheek before stepping back by Matthew. Cullen extended his hand to Mara, and she slipped her hand in his, then turned to face the Revered Mother. Mara’s fingers were cold, as always, and he gave them a quick squeeze, trying to convey everything he felt in that small gesture. 

Her green eyes were already looking misty as they stood there and she passed her bouquet to Rosie. 

Mother Lizeth smiled, “Welcome, all of you. We are here to join this man and this woman together in marriage. May the Maker and His bride smile on us today.”

Then she turned to Mara, “Your vows are first.”

Mara swallowed, and brought her eyes to his, “All growing up my clan moved from place to place. Sometimes places were easy to leave, sometimes they weren’t. And sometimes, I’d fall in love with a place. I’d envision what it might be like to be there forever, to make our home there. And then I would end up weeping as our aravels pulled away.”

He held her hands more tightly then, as her voice wavered. She blinked a few times, “I think the members of my clan understood better than I did that home is not simply a place, though I wanted it to be. And it took me a lot of wandering before I realized that home was more about who you were with than where you are. I didn’t think that I’d find a family again after I lost mine, and I certainly didn’t think that I’d be bonded to another anywhere other than in front of a Keeper’s aravel, but life has turned out so much better than I could have ever imagined.”

Cullen’s eyes were burning now too, and out of the corner of his eye he could see that Bull and Dorian were crying unabashedly while Sera kept glaring at them. Cassandra was weeping too, more stoically than everyone else, but still weeping. 

Mara continued, “When Dalish are bonded, they make the following promise, and this is what I give to you, Cullen. My heart, always. But also this. Sylaise enaste aravel. Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris. Forever.”

The Revered Mother was smiling as she nodded to him, “And now you.”

Cullen didn’t know if the things he’d prepared would measure up to all that Mara had given him, all he felt. But he spoke anyway, “There are many things I expected in my life, there were a great many that I planned for, but from the moment I met you those plans have been disrupted in the best way. We didn’t always see eye to eye, and I’m sure there will be plenty of times in the future where we will not. That is perhaps the beauty of what we have, the mutual respect and how you always challenge me, in all of the ways that matter.”

Tears leaked from her eyes and if he was honest his too, “I love you with everything that I am, and I swear before the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love you the rest of my days, to love you forever.”

“And now the rings,” Mother Lizeth said. 

Mia and Rosie both produced the rings, handing them to him and Mara. She slid his onto his finger first, a simple silverite band. And then he placed hers on her slender finger. He’d had it crafted especially for her, it was a band, but the metal filigree work was what made it special. Several tiny flowers adorned the silver band, and whenever he looked at it it reminded him of her. 

“I now pronounce you bonded and married,” Lizeth beamed.

“Kiss her!” Sera called and the Chargers echoed the sentiment.

And so he did. He cupped her face gently as he whispered, “I love you.” His lips met hers in a gentle caress. Her arms wound around his neck and he clutched her to him, nearly pulling her off her feet in his enthusiasm. Around them, their friends and family cheered, and Cullen couldn’t remember a time when he’d been happier. 

***

The clinic became a lot of things in the years that followed. It was a place of healing, of safety, of new beginnings. For some it was a pilgrimage, for others it was hope. But for two golden haired children who chased a mabari around the yard, it was just home. Sometimes, when the wind blew through the leaves of the growing oak tree in the front yard they could have sworn they heard Dalish whisperings, wisps of song on the breeze. Sometimes they’d sing back, but mostly they laughed and played while their parents stood in the doorway of the cottage just off the estate, arms wrapped around each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing this story just about a year ago, I never once believed it would have taken me on this journey that it did. I have learned so much over the last year about myself and about writing. I owe a lot to this story. It saved me from growing too lonely in the six months my husband and I spent living apart. It helped me grow and become more comfortable writing different things. But mostly, I’ve been able to connect to some truly wonderful people. I know a lot of fic writers complain about never feeling like they’re receiving feedback, and I’ve been lucky enough to not feel that way often and that’s because I am convinced I have the best readers on the whole planet. There are several people I want to take some time to thank specifically though.   
> First, my dear, sweet husband, Mark. You have cheered me on and supported me even when this story was just a little idea in my head. You have read and critically assessed each and every chapter, even when it wasn’t convenient for you. Without you, this story would be so very very different. Thank you for coming along with me on this journey, it’s been so much fun, even when you use my words against me.   
> Seal, you have cheered and championed me all the way through this story. You’ve beta’d the most difficult chapters, especially the smutty ones. We have blushed together and you have always made me feel like this story was worth telling. Thank you for always being there and for being the best friend another writer could ask for.  
> Fiend, you were there at the very beginning. It was your encouragement that lead me to post my very first bit of writing here, and then again when I bounced ideas off of you while it was still just an idea. I owe a lot to you my friend, and I’ll never forget it.   
> BattytheBat: Thank you always for the beautiful, well-thought, novel comments. I always look forward to them, they kept me going always.   
> Ellenembee: I know we just recently connected on Tumblr, but you’ve been here from the very beginning. Leaving beautiful words of encouragement that have kept me going. Thank you, I appreciate you so so much.   
> Pietro: Your comments are always so uplifting. You’re always cheering me on, and I so appreciate each and every time I see an email pop-up saying I’ve got a comment from you.   
> Gangsterbee: You’ve been around since the beginning too, thank you for sticking with me on this journey.   
> Adelaide: You’ve been around here for a while too, leaving such nice comments that have kept me going on the bad writing days. Believe me, I’ve got lots of comments screenshotted on my phone, some of yours are there.   
> Mrs.Blonde: Thank you for your encouragement from the very beginning of this story. For always asking wonderful questions and thinking so much about these characters.   
> AlyssaCousland: Your comments are always lovely, and make me feel so loved.   
> Derpy-Giraffe: You are my A Class Act crossover reader, and that makes me so so happy, you have no idea.   
> Ceren: I love the conversations we are able to have, the lovely questions you ask and the thoughtful responses you give.   
> Love also to Yngvildr the Voracious, Aworldinside, Daui, Scribeklio, Ladybuck112, Bountykress, PercServal, Leasalla, Ma-Sulevin, Sloth-Race (yay fellow sloth lovers!) and Fran for beautiful comments and support and encouragement.   
> This whole story has been such a labor of love and each one of you has helped make it feel so worthwhile. I am so appreciative to everyone who has ever subscribed, left a comment, or a kudos, or has simply stopped by to read. While this story isn’t the most popular or anything like that, you folks have always made me feel like it was. You’ve always made me feel like it was a story worth telling, worth working on, and worth finishing. I am so so so grateful to each and everyone of you. I really truly love you guys and am so grateful for the friendships and connections that have been cultivated here.   
> Thank you for reading. Love - Slothquisitor


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